Just Follow My Lead
by Eriana10
Summary: Eriana Tabris is forced into a role that she isn't quite ready for. She has to inspire others to follow her. Love triangle fTabris/Alistair/Zeveran.
1. Duncan 1

The Denerim marketplace was still bustling, even in the waning light of the late afternoon, as Duncan and his newest recruit entered. The air around them was buzzing with gossip, most of it centered around the death of the arl's son. Duncan caught only bits of the conversations as he walked through the crowd, but opinions about Bann Vaughn were widely varied as rumors of his poor treatment of the alienage women were well known. Some believed that his death was well deserved while others thought it was further proof that the elves in the city were dangerous and needed to be reined in. None of them were aware, however, that the object of their gossip was walking freely among them.

Duncan looked down at the beautiful, young elven woman walking at his side. She was understandably quiet amid all the bustle of the market and was probably wary of leaving the city for the first time in her life. He had to admit, he was quite pleased with his newest recruit. Not only had she taken out an estate full of trained, armed guards, but she had also shouldered all the responsibility for the assault, even though her hand was forced by her cousin's hasty actions. "She would do well in the ranks of the wardens," he thought as he smiled to himself, "and she'll probably have about a dozen big brothers and twice that many suitors." A fact that may pose a problem later on Duncan mused to himself. Eriana Tabris had all the assets that made a good warden; she was fiercely loyal, deadly accurate with a bow and arrow, and graceful at wielding multiple weapons. However, she was also endowed with the assets that made her race so alluring to most men (and even a few woman). She had a slim, willowy build and sharp elven features. Her blond hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing a slender neck and delicate pointed ears, and the wispy pieces of hair that framed her face seemed to accentuate her piercing blue eyes. But as desirable as she was physically, Eriana seemed to have an innate quality that drew others to her. In fact, most residents of the alienage seemed devastated at the prospect of losing her.

Lost in thought about his new Warden, Duncan almost didn't notice when she shouted and darted off into the crowd, dropping her pack behind her. Grabbing her things, Duncan took off after her. Making his way through the crowd, he found her kneeling over a dark-haired man who was flat on his back looking up at her dagger, which was pointed directly at his throat. The elf had him pinned down with her knee in his chest and looked very annoyed when Duncan walked up.

"Did do something to offend you, my dear?" Duncan asked amusedly.

"Not exactly," she answered and without looking up she tossed him a familiar looking leather pouch. "Did figure that you would need this, though."

Duncan quickly checked his pocket. Sure enough, the thief had managed to make off with his money without him noticing. Duncan realized that he was so focused on Eriana that he allowed himself to become completely oblivious to everything else around him.

"Fine, you got your purse back, now would you mind getting your elf off me," the would-be thief grumbled from the ground. Eriana flinched a bit at the comment, but she kept her dagger pointed at the man's neck. Duncan smiled to himself as the guards made their way through the gathered crowd. He wasn't sure who impressed him more, the thief that had made off undetected with his purse or Eriana who not only noticed it, but also managed to catch him. Well, he did need a third recruit.

The guards who approached the trio immediately recognized the thief. Apparently, he was infamous in the market place for his recent rash of petty thefts and break-ins. As the guards were about to take him away, Duncan decided for the second time that day to invoke the right of conscription. The guards seemed understandably annoyed about losing another criminal to the Wardens, but they merely muttered under their breaths as they walked away. Duncan heard only snidbits of their complaints, "havens for criminals," "bands of outlaws," and the like, but he ignored it and turned his attention to his new recruits. Eriana was looking pointedly away from the thief as he introduced himself as Daveth, but she didn't seem uncomfortable, just annoyed.

As the group made their way toward the city gates, Eriana hastened her pace to walk beside Duncan. "So, do the Grey Wardens ever recruit law-abiding citizens, or are wanted murders and thieves all you guys go for," she asked, an intrigued look on her face.

"We do have a few knights in shining armor, but I personally find them quite boring," Duncan said with a grin. "I have found that most criminals are very skilled and have been forced into crime by circumstances beyond their control. Becoming a Warden gives them a chance to use their skills for the greater good."

"That makes sense, I guess." Eriana replied, looking up nervously at the city gates.

"By the way, next time you decide to hold someone at knife point, you may want to consider holding the knife sideways, blade against the throat. It makes for a more natural cutting motion in case you need to actually kill him. Besides, you have a greater chance of missing your target if you need to pull your arm back to strike; a sideways cutting motion is much more effective."

Eriana looked at him, shocked for a moment, then began to laugh. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever find myself in that position again." For the first time since she joined him, Duncan saw the young elf smile. Yes, thought Duncan, she will do quite well in the Grey Wardens.


	2. Eriana 2

Eriana didn't trust Daveth at all. Every time that he looked her way, she felt as if she was being appraised in some way, like he was looking for her weaknesses, assessing her strengths, looking for ways to exploit them. The first night out of Denerim, Duncan asked her and Daveth to spar so that he could assess their fighting styles. Eriana was surprised by how easily she was able to disarm Daveth. He was a quick fighter, but he was a bit clumsy and heavy-handed with his fighting technique. Eriana quickly disarmed him in their first sparing match. After getting advice from Duncan, they faced each other for a second match.

Eriana circled the thief slowly, looking for an opening to disarm him or take him down. Daveth, however, was very patient this time around, waiting for her to make the first move. She lunged forward with her sword, spinning as she moved to try to catch him with her dagger as he danced out of the way. The move caught them both off balance for a moment and gave her a chance to knock Daveth's feet out from under him. In the process of falling, he pulled her down on top of him, and they found themselves in the very position they initially met, with Eriana pinning him to the ground with her knee. Duncan laughed as he got up to tend the fire, but Daveth caught Eriana's arm and pulled her down to him as she tried to get up.

"One day, pretty, little elf, our positions will be reversed," he hissed in her ear, too quietly for Duncan to hear, "and I won't be so gentle."

Eriana jerked her arm away from him and scrambled to her feet, but said nothing. She refused to give him the pleasure of responding to his idle threats, but all the same his leers made her nervous.

Duncan didn't ask them the spar again; instead, he insisted on working with them individually. At first, Eriana was unsure about the older man's abilities, but after finding herself disarmed in less than a minute, she was forced to revise her opinions about him. Duncan moved with such speed and grace, she wasn't sure if he was fighting or dancing. For the first time since the death of her mother, Eriana was finally fighting against someone who was genuinely better than her. They spared every night on the way to Ostagar, and Eriana found that she was improving a great deal under his tutelage. She was actually able to get the better of her commander on occasion.

It was their seventh night on the road, and the small party was about two days out of Ostagar. They had finished their nightly training session and were starting to turn in when Eriana approached Duncan, who was sitting by the fire, preparing for the first shift on watch.

"I never really thanked you for saving me back there in Denerim," Eriana said, as she sat down. "I'm pretty sure that you were the first human man who has ever stood up for me, and I wasn't exactly sure how to react."

Duncan looked over at her. "I am sorry that you have only seen our darker nature, but all men are not like the ones that you encountered"

Eriana pulled her knees up to her chest. "The only man who was ever decent to me was the barkeep at the tavern, and I'm pretty sure that was because he knew my mother." She sighed as she looked up at Duncan. "I wasn't sure what to expect when you walked into the alienage, but I assumed that you were after the same thing as all the others. The fact that you helped us out, even though we were just elves.."

Duncan interrupted her. "You are not _just elves_. You have the same rights as anyone else in this kingdom, and you are an equal to every other Grey Warden in Fereldan. We are a band of brothers and sisters," he said looking down at her. "And I didn't conscript you because I felt sorry for your situation. I did feel for you, don't get me wrong, but I conscripted you because you are very talented. Elder Valendrian bragged of you often, and truth be told, you were my first choice of recruits till I heard you were getting married."

Eriana grinned up at Duncan. "Now that surprises me. All he did was fuss at me for causing trouble with the guards and the Chantry Sisters. That and sneaking back into the alienage after curfew."

"You had a curfew?"

"All elves in the alienage did. We weren't supposed to be out after a certain time; it made the humans uneasy to have us out after dark."

Duncan shook his head. "At times I forget what it is like outside the ranks of the Wardens. Well, my dear; you don't have to worry about that any longer; you are among equals now."

Eriana stole a quick glance at Daveth's tent and considered telling Duncan what he had said earlier that week. He hadn't said anything else, so it may have just been his frustration at being bested by a woman that prompted the threat she reasoned. His actions, however, still worried her. He still stared at her with a look that she knew all too well, and he seemed to find reasons to be close to her, to touch her accidently. She could tell Duncan her concerns, but then she thought better of it. That would only prove that she was weak and needed Duncan's help. She could handle Daveth on her own.

"Thank you, Duncan," Eriana said as she got up to head to her tent. "Again, I appreciate everything you've done for me."

As she ducked into her tent, Eriana looked back at Duncan as he fed the fire. "He's not bad, I guess," she thought, "for a human."


	3. Alistair 3

Alistair could honestly say he hated the Korcari Wilds. He always felt the vague pressure that came with the presence of darkspawn, that coupled with a distinct feeling that the veil was particularly thin here made him extremely uneasy. On top of all that, he had recruits to look after. This was the first real responsibility that Duncan had given him since he joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens only six months ago. He was to evaluate and assist the three new recruits as they encountered their darkspawn first, but just before they left camp, Duncan had informed Alistair of a second responsibility.

As they were turning to leave camp, Duncan had held Alistair back momentarily. "I want you to keep an eye on Daveth and the girl. I have an uneasy feeling about her and the thief, so watch out for her."

"Do you think that they are trying to escape?" Alistair had heard how Duncan had conscripted both of them, saving them from the city guards; he wouldn't be surprised if they tried to disappear amid the bustle of the army.

"No, I'm just uncomfortable about how he keeps eyeing her. There's something there, I'm sure of it."

"Has she said anything?"

Duncan shook his head, "But I doubt she would. She seems the type to want to take care of it herself. Even if he has done something, I doubt she would come to me, so just keep an eye on him. With me out of the picture, I wouldn't be surprised if he tried something.

Alistair had a feeling that all of this was going to give him a head ache before all was said and done. Mulling over Duncan's words over in his head, Alistair groaned when he felt a familiar sensation coursing through his body. Darkspawn, close. "Be ready," he cautioned the recruits, "we're coming up on a small band, four, maybe five at most, so be ready."

Yep, it was darkspawn, just as disgusting and frightening as Alistair had remembered. He, Daveth, and Jory charged the main bulk of the group with Eriana dropped back, pulling out a longbow. He was impressed with the accuracy and speed with which she leveled shot after shot at the darkspawn. He mustered his strength and slammed, shield first, into the largest Hurlock, knocking him backward a few feet before taking him out with his sword. Daveth and Jory were finishing off genlocks when Alistair noticed that two of the darkspawn had broken from the group and were heading toward Eriana. Alistair took off after them as quickly as he could in his bulky chainmail armor. There was no way he would beat them to the elf, and he was afraid she would be overwhelmed before he could reach her.

Eriana was calmly leveling shot after shot at the approaching darkspawn, trying to take them down before they got to her. As they approached, she suddenly dropped her bow and quickly pulled out the two daggers that were also strapped to her back. Taking a defensive stance, she stunned the larger hurlock and turned her attention to the genlock approaching from behind it. Spinning out of the way of its sword, Eriana sliced open the creature's side before trying to maneuver behind it. She sunk her first dagger deep into its shoulder, and using it as leverage, pulled the genlock across the second dagger at its throat. The genlock stumbled and fell at her feet, but the elf barely noticed it as she turned her attention to the hurlock that was beginning to come toward her. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to get her dagger out of the fallen genlock quickly enough, and the towering Hurlock slammed into her, knocking her other dagger out of her hand. Alistair reached the pair just as the hurlock was about to bring his sword down on the dazed elf. He slammed into the darkpsawn, sending him careening away from the girl and drove his sword deep into the hurlock's chest. With a sigh of relief, Alistair turned to help Eriana up.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry; I didn't notice that they were past us until they were almost on you." Alistair said as he reached down to pull her up. He wasn't prepared for how light she was or how easily he is able to lift her up. In fact, he pulled her so hard that she left her feet and ended up in his arms for a moment.

"Maker, Alistair, I think you nearly pulled my arm out of socket," she said with a slight laugh as she rubbed her shoulder. "I think you have me confused with Ser Jory up there," she added with a sly grin.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I am impressed though; you handled those darkspawn like it was nothing. I think Jory nearly soiled his armor when they showed up."

Eriana shrugged and started walking toward the other two recruits. "Here Jory," she said, tossing him a small vile, "fill this up with some blood from that darkspawn. Duncan said we need their blood for our joining, remember."

As Jory went to work collecting the blood, Alistair began cleaning the blood off his sword. As he was trying to get his weapon clean, he heard a loud crash and looked up to see Eriana pinning Daveth against a tree, her gauntlet at his throat, brandishing a dagger with the other hand.

"Touch me again, you snake, and I will cut off your balls and feed them to the darkspawn," she growled at him. "I am not here for your entertainment," and with that she slammed him back against the tree and walked away from the group, leaving behind a stunned Jory and Alistair behind.

The rest of the trip into the wilds was done in relative silence, Eriana and Daveth fuming, shooting venomous looks at one another, and Alistair and Jory too uncomfortable to say anything. Though he hadn't seen exactly what happened between the two, Alistair guessed that Duncan had been right. The thief had tried something with the elf, and she didn't respond too well.

Eriana handed Duncan the treaties and darkspawn blood after returning to the camp just as the sun started to set. Alistair hung back a bit, waiting for Duncan to finish with the recruits. "Tomorrow morning, we will conduct the joining ritual, and the three of you will officially become Grey Wardens. Until then, get some rest," Duncan said as he finally dismissed the recruits. Daveth and Jory headed into one of the tents while Eriana turned to walk toward the kennels.

Alistair caught up to her before she could get very far. "We need to talk," he said softly, leading her away from the group. "Care to explain what that was all about back there?"

"I don't see how it is any of your business," she snapped back at him. Alistair sternly glared at her. "Fine, when we were getting the darkspawn blood, Daveth seemed to think it was a good time to get grabby."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he slid his hand up my thigh and tried to, well you can guess what he was trying to grab," she said, crossing her arms in front of herself. "Then he said something about Daddy Duncan not being there to protect me, and that I should watch myself back at camp; that he needed to relieve some pent up aggression."

Alistair looked aghast. "Why didn't you just tell me; I could have put a stop to it. You didn't need to go at him like that by yourself."

"Going to you would have been the worst thing I could have done, Alistair."

"And why, may I ask, is that"

"Because you won't always be there. If I go to you and get you to make that creep stop, then it's like me saying 'Daveth, I'm too weak to take care of myself, and I need this big, strong man to take care of me.' If I do that, he has the power because it looks like I'm scared and can't take care of myself. It would only be a matter of time before he decided to take advantage of that. The moment that I was alone; he would have the power."

"So this was about looking strong, then."

"No, it was about being strong. It's about standing up for myself and not relying on anyone else to take care of me because no one ever does." Eriana then added, almost to herself, "and those who try always get hurt."

"Eriana," Alistair said gently, "there is no reason for you to be afraid. We look out for each other in the Grey Wardens. We fight side by side against true horrors in this world, and we have to trust one another implicitly. If you can't trust us to have you back off the battlefield, then how can you trust us on it?" He reached out to touch her arm, but she jerked away and out of his reach.

"I appreciate your concern; I truly do, but you don't know how the world works out of chantry walls. I can take care of myself," she said as she spun on her heel to storm away. After taking a few steps, she turned back to Alistair. "But thank you for trying."

Alistair shook his head as she took off through the camp. As he watched her go, he vowed to himself that he was going to look out for her and prove her wrong. "I will make her trust me before all is said and done."


	4. Eriana and Alistair 4

The russet head of the sick mabari seemed to stir a bit as Eriana approached the kennels, medicinal flower in head. The dog seemed to recognize her, but was too sick to do little more than watch her as she talked with the kennel master.

"How's he doing," Eriana asked motioning toward the dog.

"He's calmed down a bit; this flower should help a lot, though. He already seems to respond to you," the man added. "Once he starts feeling better, we may be able to get him to impress on you."

"Is that possible? I thought mabari impressed for life on one master."

"If you have the right touch with him, I see no reason he couldn't re-impress. He may have already done it, judging by how he's acting right now."

Erinana glanced over at the dog who had his eyes fixed on her, head down, ears back in a submissive position. "I'll swing by after the battle tomorrow, then, and we can see if he still likes me."

Silently, Eriana offered up a prayer to the Maker for the dog's sake. She had always wanted a dog, and a battle-hardened mabari would be a fine asset in fighting darkspawn. She started to head back toward the Warden encampment when she remembered the other herbs that she picked up while they were in the wilds. With the right supplies, she could mix together some poisons to coat her blades before the battle tomorrow. Perhaps that pig of a quarter master would have some of the supplies she would need; assuming, of course, that he didn't mistake her for a servant again. Sorting through her pack, she made a mental list of what she could sell and what she would need to make and store the poisons.

After a quick trip across camp, Eriana found herself working quietly in the wooded area near the camp's entrance. There she had found some extra deathroot growing by the gates and got to work, grinding down the plant to a fine liquid using her mortar and pestle. She was so intently focused on the poison coating that she didn't notice Daveth sneaking up behind her until it was too late.

* * *

Alistair stepped out of his tent, happy to be out of the hot, heavy armor he had been in all day. He was tired after trekking through the wilds and was desperate for a meal. "Dang Warden metabolism," he muttered to himself. He wondered if any of the new recruits had eaten yet, and walked over to the cluster of tents where they were staying. He was surprised to find only Jory there, sitting by the fire, trying very hard not to smudge the ink on the letter he was trying to write in the dim light of the fire.

"Hey, I was just getting ready to grab something to eat, care to join me?"

"Nah, after fighting those monsters, I doubt I'll be hungry again for a while. I feel like I can still smell them, ugh. How on earth can you stand to eat after that?"

Alistair shrugged. "Unfortunately, you kind of get used to it." Alistair glanced toward the other tents, "how about the others, have they eaten yet?"

"Dunno," Jory muttered, "haven't seen the elf since she took off toward the kennels. Girls and their animals," he mumbled. "Daveth disappeared not too long ago, muttering about taking care of business."

"Maker!" Alistair cursed to himself, "which way did he go, did you see?"

Jory gestured vaguely toward to camp's gate, and Alistair took off without waiting for any explanation. He was furious with himself. How could he have been so stupid? He had left Eriana alone, knowing full well how angry Daveth was with her. Maker help him, he hoped that he found he before it was too late.

* * *

"Don't panic, don't panic," Eriana told herself as she tried to scramble to her feet, but Daveth was too quick and had the advantage of surprising her. He pushed her back to the ground, his foot on her shoulder, and looked down at her with a sly grin on his face. She knew that look; she had seen it far too many times before on far too many men. Images of nobles and guards flashed through her head. "Don't panic, calm down, you've been through this before," she tried to tell herself, but she knew deep down that this time was different. This time, it was personal.

"So, little elf, what am I going to do with you?" He purred as he kicked the mortar way from her. "You just don't seem to know your place, elf, and you seem to think that you are stronger than me. Now, let's see if I remember where you keep your 'hidden' daggers. One in the boot," he said as he pulled the dagger out of the hidden sheath, "one on your hip, and my personal favorite," he said as he ran his hand up her leg, "the last one strapped to your thigh."

Andraste's mercy, he had been watching her very closely, she realized. Quickly she began to run through her options. She was unarmed, he was not, so fighting him was out of the question. She could scream, but he would probably just kill her and sneak off into the wilds before they could catch him. Looking up at him, she realized that, like so many other times in her life, she was helpless; it was then that she started to panic, struggling beneath his strong grip. Above her, the thief just laughed.

"Now, I bet you regret chasing me down. You should have just let the guards take care of me, elf," he practically spat at her. So that's what this was about. She had embarrassed him in the market place, and he was getting his revenge. "Silly little girl, you think you are so strong and tough, but you're not. You are just an elf, not deserving of the title of Grey Warden, and it's about time someone put you back in your place," he said as he lowered himself on top of her.

Eriana began to struggle, trying to jerk away, out of his reach, so he punched her, slamming her head into the ground behind her. She cried out in pain as her vision began to grow fuzzy, and she slowly lost consciousness.

* * *

Alistar was beginning to grow frantic as he scanned the area near the gate. Surely she wouldn't have gone out of the camp alone at this time of night. He was about to take off to search near the army encampment when he heard a cry off to his left in the woods. "Eriana," he thought. Desperately, he took off toward the sound of the cry, hoping to reach her before anything happened. Luckily he made it to them just in time to pull Daveth off the unconscious elf. Daveth was so stunned at the templar's sudden appearance that he didn't react quickly enough to dodge Alistair's fist as it made contact with his cheek. The thief stumbled back into a tree and fell clumsily to the ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet and disappeared back toward the camp, but for the time, Alistair couldn't care less. He quickly turned to help the unconscious girl behind him, cursing himself for not taking better care of her.

* * *

Eriana came around, confused to find someone helping her sit up and holding a flask of some strong-smelling liquid to her mouth.

"Shhh, don't try to move too much, just drink this," a gentle but familiar voice said to her. "It's a health potion; it will make you feel better."

The drink had a strange minty taste, but it definitely did the job. The fog in her head was clearing up, and the sharp pain at the back of her skull seemed to dull for a moment. Gaining her bearings, she looked up to see who was helping her. "Alistair," she said with a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes for a moment before the memory of what happened came rushing back. "Oh, no, Daveth."

"He took off, but don't worry, I made it in time. You're going to be okay. Do you think you can sit all the way up?" asked Alistair, gently helping her as she tried to sit upright on her own.

"Yeah, Maker, my head hurts," she said, reaching to touch the back of her head. "That health potion is working, I think."

"Good. Now, I want you to sit here, I will be right back. I'm going get Duncan and track down Daveth," said Alistair, standing to move away.

"No!" she almost shouted, standing up far too quickly. Alistair rushed back to her side as she stumbled and almost fell again. Eriana looked up at him with panicked eyes.

"You will be fine; no one else is going to hurt you."

"No," She replied, shaking her head. "That's not it." Alistair lowered her back to the ground as she tried to clarify her thoughts for a moment. "No, you can't tell Duncan, please don't tell Duncan."

"Why in Andraste's name not? He attacked you; he tried to rape you. The man deserves to be in a cage, not fighting darkspawn."

"Alistair, please, this is my fault. He was trying to get back at me for embarrassing him," she stammered, turning away from Alistair.

Alistair reached out to touch her shoulder, but pulled his hand back when he felt her flinch at his touch. "Eriana, you didn't ask to be attacked; don't act like this is your fault."

"No, in a way it was. I provoked him back in Denerim and in the Wilds with you." Alistair started to protest, but she held up her hand. "I don't think Daveth is normally like this; I think I may have just pushed him a bit too far, and he was getting revenge the only way he knows how. He wanted to embarrass me like I embarrassed him, I think. Just please wait to tell Duncan," she looked down at her hands, "I don't want him thinking that I'm weak and can't take care of myself."

"You aren't weak."

"Well, Duncan will think I am if he knows you had to come and rescue me. I just want a chance to prove myself. Please?"

She shook her head and turned around so she could look Alistair in the face. "Look, we have the joining to go through tomorrow, right." Alistair nodded, saying nothing. "From what I've gathered," she continued, "the ritual in and of itself might be fatal. If we both survive, then you can tell Duncan. If not, no harm."

"No harm! How can you say that? Where is the justice in him becoming a Grey Warden?"

"Please try to understand. I don't want anyone else to know about this!" she said sharply. "It's bad enough that you know, but… Look, coming to the Wardens was supposed to be a fresh start for me; a place where no one knew about my past. I don't want everyone seeing me as a victim. I don't think I could bear those looks again."

"Okay," Alistair finally relented; he wasn't going to force her to do anything. Helping Eriana to her feet, he handed her a small vial, "here, this is a health poultice. Rub some on that bruise above your cheek before you go to sleep tonight, and it will be gone by morning. "Let me get those for you," he said collecting her daggers and poison-making supplies, "then we can head back to camp so you can get some sleep."

"Thank you, Alistair," she said, taking her things back from him, and together they walked back to the Warden encampment.


	5. Alistair 5

_Thanks to those of you who have been reading! I know Daveth's character is a bit off, and I actually liked him while I was playing the game. I just needed an easy way to introduce Eriana's past. Let me know what you think!_

* * *

The mid-day sun beat down on the army encampment at Ostagar as Alistair made his way back to the Warden encampment. Maker, he knew that it was necessary, but he hated the Joining ritual. Today's was only the second one he has attended since his own, but it wasn't getting any easier, especially considering how invested he felt in this one. It was very hard for him to stay silent when Daveth walked into the ruined temple for the Joining. Hatred and anger seared through him as he looked pointedly at the theif, but Daveth refused to make eye contact with Alistair. He hated to admit it, but he almost felt relieved when Daveth doubled over. It seemed that the Maker had a sense of justice after all. Ser Jory's reaction saddened Alistair, but he couldn't say that he was surprised that the knight panicked, hating that Duncan had to cut the poor man down. However, what he hated most about that day's ritual was the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Eriana step forward to take the cup. It almost seemed that Alistair was more nervous than she was; she seemed resolved to her fate and unafraid. Ailstair felt a few-found respect for the elven woman, and he muttered a silent prayer that the Maker protect her, the first prayer he had uttered in months.

Trying to block out the memory, Alistair ducked into the mess tent, hoping to get one last meal in before the arduous battle that was likely to happen that evening. He grabbed a bow of stew and some bread with cheese and found a seat with some of the younger Wardens he had become friends with over the past few months. They were all discussing the state of affairs with the King's army, wondering how the forces would handle the darkspawn. As he started eating, Gilbert, a red-headed knight who went through the Joining with Alistair, joined them at the table.

"Hey Al, how did the Joining go? Did the girl make it?"

"Yeah," Alistair replied sadly, "but she was the only one. She's meeting with Duncan and the King to discuss the battle plans."

"So, she caught the King's eye, eh? I hope he's not as fond of elves as his father, or we may not stand a chance," said Gilbert with a laugh.

"Is it true, then, what the guards have been saying," asked another Warden. "You know, is she as pretty as all that?"

Alistair couldn't imagine that a mere description could have done her justice, but answered anyway. "Yeah, she's gorgeous alright."

The young men around him smiled and a few high-fived across the table. It had been a long time since there were any female Grey Wardens in Ferelden, and many of the Wardens thought her addition to the order was long overdue.

"She's from the Denerim alienage though, right?" piped up Dillon, who Alistair had remembered used to work as a guard in Denerim. Alistair nodded. "I'd tread lightly around her then, Gilbert, if I were you, and that goes for the rest of you fellows," he said, pointing at them with his spoon." Chances are, none of you stand a chance.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" asked Gilbert, insulted.

"It means that you are a human, so, chances are, she'll likely be quite wary of you."

Alistair looked over at the former guard, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, if she's as pretty as you say she is, chances are she didn't escape the notice of the noblemen of Denerim for long." When no one said anything, he continued. "You know how nobles are, they see something that they want and they take it, regardless of what or who it is."

"Wait, are you telling me that you all knew that the nobility was taking advantage of elven women and the guards knew it, but did nothing about it?" Alistair asked.

Dillon nodded. "Look, it's not like we could do anything about it. The elves are just as afraid of us as they are of the noble men, so they don't say anything about it, and if we didn't see them actually hurting the women, there was really nothing we could do. When you are dealing with the most powerful men in the land, you don't anger them, the captain of the guard made that quite clear. It was one of the reasons I jumped at the opportunity to join the Wardens, we aren't under the authority of a group of corrupt noble men."

"Why would they be afraid of the guards?" Gilbert asked.

"Well, most of the guards are bastard sons of noblemen, so a lot of them are just as bad as their fathers. They have an over-inflated sense of entitlement," said Dillon, shaking his head. "I wanted the help those poor girls, I really did, but in most cases my hands were tied."

Alistair sat in silence as the table continued to talk about corruption in the capital. He had no idea that things were so bad for elves in the cities. Growing up in the Chantry, while a secure upbringing, had left him unprepared for the reality of the world outside of its walls. Eriana had been right when she had accused him of being naïve; no wonder Daveth had made her so angry. She had probably thought all humans were like him. Alistair was pulled out of his contemplation when Gilbert elbowed him in the side.

"There she is," said Gilbert, nodding toward the tent's opening as Eriana walked in, looking around the mess tent. Most of the conversation in the tent stopped as the Wardens turned toward the newest member of their order. Eriana glanced around apprehensively and gave Alistair a brief smile and nod before getting her food and sitting by herself at an empty table. Slowly, the conversations around him picked back up, and Alistair noticed that Eriana seemed to relax a bit.

Dillon cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'd give her time to adjust before any of you try anything."

Alistair glanced at him, "Do you know her?"

"Yeah, I know her by sight anyway. She used to work at the tavern in the market place, one of the taverns that the nobility frequented, too."

"That's impossible; you've been a Warden for at least three years. There's no way she's old enough to have worked in a tavern while you were a guard," Gilbert retorted.

"Nah, it's her; I'm sure of it. She was really young when she started working there, and believe me, she didn't escape notice for very long. I guess she worked at the tavern for about two years before I was recruited, and in that time, I hate to say it, she was very popular with the customers." Dillon stopped for a moment, then added thoughtfully, "I wonder how Duncan found her, she never struck me as much of a fighter."

Suddenly, everything made sense to Alistair. He finally understood why she was so determined to stand up for herself. Now that she was out of the confines of the alienage and the city, she was finally able to fight back, to stand up for herself. Everything she had said about Daveth made sense too. No one had ever stood up for her, protected her, so she didn't expect anyone to. He glanced over to where she was eating, picking at the food in front of her. She probably didn't even want to admit that she needed help from anyone which was probably why she didn't want Alistair going to Duncan about the Daveth thing. She was ashamed of the fact that Alistair rescued her because she wanted to prove to herself, to everybody, that she could protect herself. Until now, she had been a victim, utterly alone in the world, forced to fend for herself. Well, she wasn't alone anymore. Alistair swore to himself that he would take care of the elf. He would be the one to watch out for her when no one else would, and he would do everything in his power to make sure no one hurt her again.

Too bad he wasn't powerful enough to hold himself to that promise.


	6. Eriana 6

"Climb a tower, light a fire, that sounds easy enough," Eriana thought to herself. "Duncan knows I've never been in a real battle before, so this should be an easy way to break me in, a good rookie assignment." She was trying desperately to convince herself that she belonged here, but, deep down, she didn't really believe it. Looking down at the battle that was raging in the fields beneath Ostagar, Eriana was suddenly, for the first time, doubting whether she truly belonged with the Grey Wardens. True, a small group of darkspawn didn't frighten her, but this was a horde, a massive army. What did she know of fighting anyway? Her mother had taught her how to defend herself with daggers, and Duncan had tutored her on using a sword and dagger combo, but no one had ever trained her to fight in an army. She was no warrior, and by the laws of Denerim, she wasn't even allowed to carry a weapon. By the Black City, what was she doing here?

Well it was too late now; she and Alistair had a job to do, and a critical one at that, though Alistair didn't seem to think so. In fact, Alistair seemed to resent the fact that he was given this easy errand-boy job and kept out of the battle, but Eriana was secretly grateful that the King had requested that they light the beacon. It would give her a chance to adjust to warfare before being thrust head-long into it. She was also glad it was Alistair with her because he and Duncan were the only two that she trusted so far.

"We need to get across that bridge to get to the tower," Alistair shouted over the sounds of battle.

She nodded, and together, they made their way toward the Tower of Ishal, making their way past the catapults and archers stationed on the bridge. As she was making her way through the mayhem, she felt Alitair grab her arm and pull her back toward him, spinning them both around pulling her into his body. A second later an explosion shook the bridge around them, and Eriana could feel the heat of a fire radiating past Alistair.

"Are you okay?" Alistair asked, as she looked up at him.

"Yeah, what on earth was that?"

"I'm not sure, but the darkspawn are bombarding the bridge with them from below. We need to keep an eye out as we cross the bridge."

Eriana glanced past Alistair looking at the soldiers lying where she had been standing only moments earlier. She realized suddenly that had Alistair not pulled her back, she would have probably been lying there, too. She also realized that she was still very much in Alistair's arms. Glancing up at him, grinning slyly, Eriana gently cleared her throat, "Um, the beacon, Alistair."

"Oh, right," he said blushing slightly. "So, just keep an eye out as we, well, cross the bridge."

Carefully, but quickly, the pair made their way across the bridge, dodging explosions and fallen archers as they progressed. Once across, Eriana heard a slight gasp from Alistair. "Darkspawn," he whispered, "and close." He glanced toward the tower, and Eriana suddenly realized that their task may not be as easy as she had hoped. As quickly as they could, they fought their way to the tower. Every moment was critical, and she was starting to fear that they would be too late. Luckily, however, they received some help from a mage named Jackob, and a guard who never gave his name. Together, the four made their way to the tower's entrance.

Eriana glanced over at Alistair, "Do you sense anything?"

Alistair glanced over at her, his face looking grim, "This tower is buzzing with darkspawn."

"Well, we better take care of them, then."

After battling through two floors of darkspawn, Eriana was covered in blood and grime; she realized that she should be exhausted, but it seemed the new taint in her blood had given her added strength and vitality, even if she couldn't sense the darkspawn yet. Standing at the entrance of the third floor, Alistair seemed to take a moment to catch his breath.

"This doesn't make sense. There shouldn't be this many darkspawn this far ahead of the horde."

"Well, maybe you could tell them that they were early, I'm sure they'd understand," Eriana replied with a grin.

"Riiight, maybe they'll just pick up and leave."

"Hey, I thought you were the one who wanted to be in the battle."

Alistair laughed for a moment, "True, true, this is just want I wanted," he said elbowing her a bit too hard in the side and sending her stumbling into a barricade.

"Um, elf, Alistair. Remember I'm an elf," she teased, as Alistair pulled her out of the rubble.

"Yeah, sorry; I keep forgetting that. But we need to hurry or we'll miss Duncan's signal." Eriana nodded in agreement, and they made their way through the room. She was surprised by how well the two of them worked together during a battle. Alistair seemed to always position himself between her and the darkspawn but in such a way that she could take open shots without endangering him. She also enjoyed fighting with Jackob; the mage's spells were as deadly as Alistair's sword. Still, despite the efficiency with which they fought, Eriana was still afraid that they were taking too long. They had to light that beacon or the King and the Wardens could be in serious trouble. She was almost desperate when they finally reached to top floor of the tower.

"Maker's breath! What is that?" Eriana gasped when they stepped out the door.

"An ogre. Watch out when you attack up close," he motioned to the guard. "And you two stay back and hit him with all you've got," he said, taking out his sword and running toward the giant darkspawn.

Eriana took a defensive position infront of the mage and began to fire arrow after arrow, being always mindful of Alistair and the guard. Alistair moved around the beast's feet, trying desperately to injure it in a critical place, but every time he seemed to get into position, the ogre would sweep him aside or slam the floor driving him back several feet. Eriana could see that Alistair was beginning to tire when the ogre charged the guard who was standing directly in front of her. The guard's body flew past her as the darkspawn came to a halt at her side.

Before she could react, the ogre's arm slammed into her, sending her flying across the room. Spinning and tucking her body in mid-air, she managed to roll across the floor rather than slam into it. She was her feet just in time to see the ogre towering over a fallen Alistair. Without thinking, she drew two short daggers and spun them in her hands so they pointed toward the ground. Rolling up on the balls of her feet, she charged to ogre, leaping gracefully onto his back an plunging her daggers into his deep hide just as he was raising his club to crush Alistair, who was still lying beneath them. The ogre roared in pain and spun around, trying to grab the elf on his back, but Eriana held on tight. She pulled out her first dagger and plunged it higher on the ogre's back, and, using it as leverage, began to climb up the beast until she was kneeling on its shoulders, just behind its neck. Holding tightly to her dagger, she pulled out her sword and plunged the weapon deep into the monster's neck, using all of her weight to drive it in. Then she flung her body back, pulling the sword with her so that it ripped a huge gash in its neck. The beast let out a deafening scream as she pulled her dagger across its exposed throat. The ogre stumbled around for a moment before tumbling forward with the small elf still poised on its back.

Eriana quickly pulled the weapons out of the ogre and began to run to Alistair's side; he frantically waved her off. "The beacon, light the beacon; I'm sure we've already missed the signal."

"Right! Jackob, heal him," Eriana shouted as she ran across the room; Maker, she hoped that they weren't too late. Throwing the torch in the fireplace, she felt Alistair step up behind her. Turning to him she asked if he was alright.

"Yeah, I am, thanks to you. Andraste's Blood, that was amazing. Where did you learn to do that?"

Eriana shrugged, "That thing was about to kill you; I had to do something. I guess we're even now. Do you think they need us down on the battle field?"

Alistair shrugged, "I'll go check," he said, moving toward one of the windows. Half way there, he stopped suddenly. "Eriana!"

But it was too late. Before he even screamed her name, Eriana felt the arrow pierce her shoulder. She turned to defend herself only to be shot again before a giant hurlock slammed into her. The last thing that she saw before the world went black as Alistair trying desperately to get to her.


	7. Alistair and Eriana 7

_This was kind of a transition chapter. I found it kind of hard to write since not a lot happens, and I didn't want to rehash a lot of the in-game dialogue._

When Alistair woke up the day following the battle, his first thoughts were of Eriana, picturing her disappearing beneath a wave of darkspawn and him powerless to stop it. Feelings of desperation and helpless flooded him as he began fully regain consciousness. Upon waking, he realized a few things; one, he was no longer in the tower; two, he was being tended by that witch, Morrigan; and three, he had no idea where Eriana was. He had failed her. He had vowed that he would protect her, and he failed, miserably. Finally seeing her didn't help him much; she looked so fragile, so broken. She was laying on a bed in the small cabin, most of her limbs wrapped in bandages. The bandage covering her left shoulder where the arrows had impaled her was beginning to turn red as the blood seeped through. Her beautiful face was black and blue and swollen, and her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.

"Will she be okay?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Morrigan didn't look up, so it was her mother who answered. "It's too soon to tell," she said frankly, "but we are doing all we can, boy."

Alistair was sure that she was still talking, but he heard nothing else. She may not survive. He wanted to take her in his arms, to hold her, to make her better, but he couldn't even find a place to touch her where she wasn't injured. Despair flooded him, and then he began to register what the old woman was telling him. She was explaining what had happened to the armies at Ostagar. Alistair could barely comprehend what she was telling him; the army was gone, the King, dead, all the Grey Wardens were killed by the darkspawn, including Duncan. Teyrn Loghain had betrayed them and had left the armies to die. Now he and Eriana were the only two Grey Wardens left in Fereldan, and she may not even make it. Alistair couldn't process it all at once, so he fixated on Eriana and her condition. His constant questioning and badgering the two mages about his companion eventually got him kicked out, so he spent the rest of the day pacing in front of the door, mentally berating himself allowing the elf to get so injured. He didn't sleep well that first night, either. In his dreams, they were back on the tower. She was being pulled away by darkspawn, and he was moving in slow motion, unable to reach her in time. Alistair finally gave up on sleep and went back to pacing.

Early the next morning, Morrigan came out and told him that the elf would live. She was not yet awake, but her bleeding had stopped, and she was starting to make a recovery. Relief rushed over Alistair. She would make it; he wouldn't be alone in all this. It was then that the fact that all the other Wardens were dead began to set in, so Alistair spent the second day grieving the loss of Duncan and the rest of the Wardens. Duncan's loss was especially hard for him to process. Duncan had saved him from a life in the Chantry and had given him a true purpose in his life. He couldn't believe that they were all gone. What was he going to do, now? By the end of the second day, his pacing had stopped, and he had started merely sitting and staring into the swamp.

The third day was the worst. Eriana still hadn't awoken, and Alistair was beginning to doubt the assurances of the witches, even though Morrigan's mother had joined him outside, claiming she was no longer needed. Duncan's death and Loghain's betrayal depressed him as well, but it was the Blight that weighed heavily on his mind that day. Two Grey Wardens in all of Fereldan. Duncan had been worried that their numbers were small to begin with, but now, how could the two of them stop the Blight. What could they do against a horde and an archdemon. He was now he most senior Warden in the nation, but what did he know? He was no Duncan; things didn't end well when he lead. What were they going to do?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door open and didn't even notice Eriana walking up to him till Morrigan's mother began to speak. For the first time in three days, Alistair felt relief rush through him as Eriana walked toward him. Quickly closing the distance between them, he pulled her into him arms, too relieved to see her to notice how she stiffened momentarily at his touch.

"Thank the Maker you're alive. I thought you were dead for sure," he whispered to her as he pulled back to look at her, keeping a hold on her arms as if she would disappear if he let go.

"What can I say, it takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me," she said with a slight laugh. Then she turned to Morrigan's mother. "Thank you for saving us, um, I don't think I ever caught your name."

"The Chasined call me Flemeth," answered Morrigan's mother, "and I suppose you may as well."

"Thank you, Flemeth, we appreciate what you've done, but why did you save us?" Eriana asked. "I mean, why risk your life in a battle to save two people you don't even know?"

Alistair found himself not listening as Flemeth and Eriana discussed the dangers of the Blight; he had been mulling over their situation all morning. He mumbled responses to whatever the women were talking about, but he was too depressed to really focus on the conversation. Talking about the two of them stopping the Blight alone was just too overwhelming, and he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. Eriana's voice suddenly snapped him out of his reflections.

"Can we do that, Alistair? Can we go to all these allies and build an army against the Blight?"

"An army? Us?" he mumbled.

"Why not, that's what Grey Wardens do. We can't just give up," she said, looking up at him.

"So," said Flemeth, "are you ready now? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" The two young Wardens nodded. "Good, if that's the case, I have one last request."

* * *

The next week passed slowly for Eriana. The walk toward Lothering seemed to take twice as long as it had the week before when she walked to Ostagar with Duncan and Daveth. The first two days were almost painful. Alistair was so lost in grief over the loss of Duncan that he would barely speak, no matter how much Eriana tried to talk to him. In fact, the only time that he spoke was when he and Morrigan were arguing or insulting each other. Most of the time, the two of them walked silently behind the annoyed elf. If the mabari hadn't found them, Eriana was quite sure that she would have gone insane, but even the hound couldn't lift Alistair's spirits.

To pass the time as they walked, Eriana began working with the dog, teaching him hand signals and learning how to command Ramoth. The dog definitely made camp life easier, disappearing into the woods as they were setting up camp and returning with a fresh kill for dinner before a fire was even lit. By the time they reached Lothering, with a flick of her wrist, she could command her dog to scout their surrounding area, move into cover, or get into a defensive position in front of any of her companions.

"If that blasted mutt comes near me again, I will freeze its hindquarters off," an exasperated shouted one time as the dog nearly barreled into her.

"Look, he needs to know your name so that I can command him to cover you during a fight. He can protect you because I don't think those robes offer that much protection," Eriana snapped back. She looked down at her mabari, "Just to be safe, boy, why don't you run beside her instead of in front of her."

When they entered Lothering, Eriana was struck was a overwhelming feeling of familiarity. She couldn't put her finger on it immediately, but as she walked through the streets, seeing the downcast faces, it suddenly hit her. It was the ailenage, only with humans instead of elves. An almost crippling feeling of homesickness was just starting to flood her when Alistair began to suggest where they should go after Lothering. As she listened to his suggestions, it suddenly struck her; he is waiting for her to make a decision. Alistair was waiting for her to take the lead. This came as a bit of a surprise to her because she had expected Alistair to take command; he had seemed so strong back at Ostagar. Losing the other Wardens must have hit him harder than she thought. So, now it falls on her, not because she is the best for the job, but because she is the only one to do it.

"Alistair, why are you leaving this up to me?"

"Well, I don't know what we should do; I'll just do whatever you tell me, okay."

Morrigan started laughing, "Aren't you the senior Warden here Alistair? What are you afraid of leadership?"

Eriana glared at her, but Ailstair answered before she had a chance to say anything. "Yes, things don't go well when I lead; we get lost, people end up without pants. It's not a pretty picture."

Eriana glanced down at the silver ring on her left hand. "Don't wait for others to step up," she said to herself, "remember what happens when you wait."

She glanced at Alistair, "Hey, it's alright. Here's what we need to do; we head into Lothering to get some supplies then we will make our way to Redcliff. We will need the armies of Fereldan behind us, so we need someone in the Landsmeet to support us, Eamon seems to be our best option. After we secure his alliance, we begin work on the treaties," she said as she turned to head into Lothering. She will have to deal with her feelings of homesickness later; now, there was work to do.

* * *

The group only spent only a few days in Lothering, but they were productive. Eriana made deals with merchants, threatened mercenaries, and even settled a small riot. Now, they had the supplies they needed and some coin to play around with. When they finally set out for Redcliff, they also had two new companions, a stoic giant named Sten and a slightly crazy Chantry sister named Liliana. Alistair still worried Eriana, however. His cheerful sense of humor was nonexistent, and even his fighting felt half-hearted. Several times, she tried to talk about Duncan with him, but all that managed to do was get him worked up all over again.

After they set up camp on their first night out of Lothering, Eriana decided once again to try to cheer up Alistair. She found him kneeling by the camp fire, poking it intently with his sword.

"If you're trying to make dinner, it would probably help if you stuck something on the end of that sword," she said elbowing him as she sat down. He seemed to smile a bit, but didn't say anything. "Now, I'm going to need you to tell me about Redcliff because, before all this, I had never left Denerim. So, tell me something about Redcliff; know you grew up there."

"Um, well, the cliffs around it are red," he said with a sight chuckle, "and it sits on a huge lake. The Arl and his family live in a castle that overlooks the village."

"The Arl Eamon, right? Didn't you say he raised you?"

"Did I say that? No, I mean that dogs raised me. Yeah, giant slobbering dogs, a whole pack of them."

Eriana laughed, "Well, that must have been tough, on the dogs I mean."

"You see, they were flying dogs, surprisingly strict parents too…"

Eriana sat back, smiling, as Alistair continued to describe his childhood as a ward of the flying dogs of the Anderfels, and she knew that everything was going to be alright. The old Alistair was back.


	8. Eriana 8

Eriana was smiling as she and Ramoth walked behind Leliana and Alistair. The trip to Redcliff had been much more enjoyable now that Alistair acting more like himself and less depressed. Leliana had been telling them about growing up and training as a minstrel in Orlais, so Alistair found it necessary to talk about his templar training. He had just finished saying something about pillow fights when he noticed both of the women looking at him, on the verge of hysterical laughter.

"Did I say pillow fights? I meant sword fights; yeah, with sharp, rusty swords. We didn't really, um, never mind. I'm just going to walk alone for a little while."

"No, no, no, I want to hear more about these pillow fights. It's a side of the Chantry I never got to see as a sister," Leliana said, following after him.

Eriana, still laughing looked down at Ramoth. "He seems in better spirits." The dog cocked his head and gave a sharp bark, glancing over at Alistair. "Yes, I hope it lasts, too. You know, there are times when I feel like I can understand you completely, boy." Ramoth gave a happy bark an wagged his little nub of a tail as scratched him behind the ears.

It was getting close to mid day when the party finally came within sight of the small town of Redcliff.

"Thank the Maker," Eriana said when they finally saw the rooftops of the town. "I want nothing more than an actual bed and a warm bath. Alistair, you better be as close to this Eamon as you say. This sleeping on the ground is starting to get old."

"Yeah, now that you mention him, we need to talk; I need to tell you something that I probably should have told you earlier," said Alistair, taking Eriana's arm and gently leading her away from the group.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this?"

"Well, I've never really liked it, that's for sure," he sighed. "Okay, here it goes. You know that Arl Eamon raised me because my mother was one of his serving girls who died, right?" Eriana nodded; she always assumed that this was because Eamon was his father. "Well, the reason he took me is was because my father was King Maric which made Cailan my half brother."

"Wait, your father…why didn't you tell me this earlier? I mean, I asked you point-blank if you knew who your father was, and you told me no. You lied to me, Alistair!"

"I know, I know, and I would have told you, but it never really meant anything to me. I was just inconvenient, a threat to the throne, a royal secret. I guess I was just used to everyone who needed to know already knowing, but I swear I didn't mean to deceive you; I just didn't want you to treat me any differently. Everyone who knew either resented me or coddled me because of it, and I was happy with the way things were. I didn't want you to know as long as possible. I'm sorry I lied to you."

Eriana stood there, looking at him for a moment. "Does Loghain know about this?"

"I don't see how he couldn't; he was Maric's best friend," Alistair replied, looking concerned.

"Well, this could complicate things," she said with a sigh. "Well, thanks for telling me."

"I would have told you sooner, but I didn't want you to look at me any differently. I wanted you to like me for me not because of who my father happened to be."

Eriana grinned up at him, "Well, my Prince, then let me make things perfectly clear. I already like you for who you are, and what you are makes no difference to me. I like the man who slams into hurlocks that are trying to kill me, the man who saved me from Daveth, and the man who respected my wishes and stayed quiet about it."

"You like me?" asked Alistair, blushing slightly.

"Isn't that obvious yet?" she said, placing a hand on his breast plate. "This doesn't change anything for me, okay, so don't worry, I don't have any plans to coddle you."

"Oh, well that's a shame; I could definitely go for some coddling right about now," he said with a grin.

Eriana was about to say something else when a soldier came running up to them. "Thank the Maker, are you here to help us?"

* * *

Eriana desperately wanted to talk to Alistair after their meeting with Bann Teagan, but there was simply too much to do. Leliana and Morrigan went to see Ser Perth about the guards' needs while Eriana took Alistair and Sten to deal with blacksmith and to recruit a dwarf to fight with the army. Eriana kept a close watch on Alistair while they moved through Redcliff; she was afraid that finding his childhood home in such a desperate state might send him back into his depression. She was right. The more they moved around, the more glum Alistair seemed to become. By the time the group met back up, it was obvious that Alistair was in bad shape.

"Everyone try to get some rest for the next few hours. We'll meet back an hour before nightfall. Leliana, I want you and Ramoth to work with the templars defending the Chantry. Everyone else will be on the hill with me, meeting the main horde, so be ready. I'll see you all in a few hours." As everyone started to disperse, Eriana caught Alistair by the arm, "come on, Alistair; we need to talk."

They walked in silence to the edge of the lake and sat on an old piece of drift wood lying on the bank of the river. "Alistair, are you okay?"

He sighed, "I don't know; I just feel so bad about everything here. You heard what Teagan said; Eamon might be dead and so many have already died. I haven't spoken to Eamon in years, and if something has happened to him…I just never told him how important he was to me. I just hope I get a chance to tell him. I should have been better to Eamon; it just feels like Duncan all over again."

"What do you mean?"

"I just feel so guilty about leaving Duncan; I should have been there with him. Who knows what may have happened if I had been there too."

"I do," said Eriana gently. "You would be lying right there on the battlefield with him, and I would be here, alone." Eriana got up and knelt infront of Alistair, taking his hands and looking deeply into his eyes. "Alistair, there is still time with Eamon, but you cannot keep beating yourself up over Duncan. You couldn't have saved him, and you were doing exactly what he wanted you to do. You were with me, and I thank the Maker you were because there is no other Warden I would want with me. I need you with me now; I can't do this alone."

"Eriana, what were we thinking? What are we even doing here?"

"We are doing our duty as Grey Wardens. We are honoring Duncan's legacy and standing for what is right. We are ending a Blight before it can destroy our country. I know that this is hard and that you may feel like giving up, but we can't do that. We have a greater responsibility beyond what our own wants and desires, and we can do this, Alistair, we can. But I can't do it without you," she reached up, touching the side of his face. "Please, don't give up on this; don't give up on me."

Alistair closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "I won't; I promise," he said, brushing her blond hair behind her ear.

"Good, that's what I wanted to hear," and with that, she leaned forward, lightly brushing her lips against his. She felt him hesitate, and she started to pull away when she felt his arms wrap around her and pull her close. Her eyes closed as his lips began to move beneath hers, one hand moving down to the small of her back as the other found its way into her hair. Her lips parted as she felt his tongue slowly, hesitantly move over hers. It was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced, so gentle and sweet that time seemed to slow for her. Unwillingly, Eriana pulled back and looked up into his golden eyes. "Too soon?"

"Hum, I'm not sure; I might need to test that," he said, smiling down at her.

"Any time, my Prince."

* * *

The battle that night was unlike anything Eriana had ever experienced. She thought darkspawn were disturbing, but this undead army was beyond unnerving. As she and Morrigan stood behind the group of soldiers, waiting for the first attack wave, the mage looked over at her and seemed to sense her nerves. "You do realize that if the flaming oil doesn't kill these things, we may very well have flaming undead to deal with, right?"

Eriana started chuckling nervously, "Well, if that does happen, you freeze them to put out the fire, and I'll take care of the rest."

It turns out, however, that Morrigan's concerns were unfounded. Several undead did break through the flaming barrier, but most never made it past the guards being lead by Sten and Alistair. In fact, Alistair was fighting like Eriana had never seen, felling some enemies with a single blow of his sword, taking on multiple undead at a time, and spurring on the guards whenever they seemed to falter. He was fighting like a man possessed, a man with a holy purpose. Eriana and Morrigan safely attacked enemies from a distance while Alistair cut down any corpse who tried to get past him. Eriana didn't even draw her daggers until they moved into the town to defeat the undead that came up from the lake. All in all, the villagers came out of it with very few losses, and everyone from her party came out of the fight unharmed. When the onslaught was over, Eriana found herself being hoisted off the ground in Alistair's arms as he spun her around.

"We did it," she whispered up at him, smiling.

"I know. I could just kiss you, but you are covered in blood and it's kinda gross," Alistair said as he put her back on her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Not a scratch, thanks to you. Come on, we need to get some rest. I have a feeling we will be heading into the castle tomorrow, so we need all the rest we can get."

* * *

The next morning, the town of Redcliff held a small ceremony, celebrating their victory, mourning their losses, and honoring their heroes. Eriana stayed quiet through most of it, uncomfortable with all the attention. As she was leaning on a fence, watching Alistair and Tegan talking, Leliana came up beside her.

"You know, next time I am tasked with improving the morale of an army, I'm going to forego the blessed amulets and just have you kiss them all," she said, smirking.

Eriana glanced up at her, blushing slightly, "You saw that, then."

"Yes, and I also saw the way it made him fight. He is like a whole new man today," she put her arm around the elf. "I am happy for you."

"Thanks, I just hope I didn't make a big mistake," Eriana said with a sigh.

"A mistake? You care for him, no?" Eriana nodded. "Then how could it possibly be a mistake?"

Eriana was silent for a moment, looking over at Alistair and Tegan. She crossed her arms and turned to look at Leliana. "He's just so…human." She seemed to hesitate for a second before she took a deep breath and continued. "I like him, but it's just so confusing."

"I don't understand; you've never seemed to have a problem with humans. Why now, all of a sudden?"

"I don't have a problem with humans, really; it's just…" she sighed, "When I was fourteen, my mother died unexpectedly. She was ambushed by some bandits between the ailenage and the market. Needless to say, her death hit us pretty hard, especially my father. In a way, he all but shut down. I had to force him to eat; he wouldn't leave the house; he was an absolute wreck. So, it fell on me to provide for us. My mother had been friends with the barkeep at a local tavern, so I went to him for help. He got me a job working in the Gnawed Noble Tavern, serving drinks, cleaning tables, you know, doing stuff like that. The pay wasn't great, but it kept us from starving.

"Not long after I started working there, a few of the patrons started to take notice of me. You see, I kind of developed young, most elves do, and some of the noble men kind of took a liking to me. The first time it happened was only a month or so after I started working. A noble man came up to me as I was leaving to go home and slipped a coin pouch into my pocket. He whispered to me, 'If you try to run or scream, I will drag you to the guards and tell them that you stole that money from me, then you will spend the night if Fort Drakon. Or you can go with me, and I may let you keep what's in that pocket.' Well, I wasn't sure what was going on, so I went with him, and, well, you can imagine what happened."

"Oh, you poor Dear! Was that the only time?"

Eriana shook her head, "Hardly. It probably happened at least once a month after that. Sometimes the same men, sometimes different ones, but they all had the same routine. Things continued on that way until one day, one of the younger nobles got a bit rough, and I came home battered and bruised. My father realized what happened then, and made me quit. I was seventeen"

Leliana put her arms around Eriana, "Oh, I had no idea. Was that the last time?"

"No, the last time was just before the battle at Ostagar. Alistair found me just in time to stop one of the other recruits from raping me."

"Well, I can see why you're conflicted about Alistair; the fact that he's human must frighten you."

Erian shrugged, "It's not really fear; I mean, I'm not afraid of humans. It's just…have you ever had a food that you love, but you get sick after eating it one time?" Leliana nodded. "Well you know that sick feeling you get in the pit of your stomach whenever you smell that food? That's how I feel with human men. Sick, not scared. The sad thing is, I know Alistair isn't like that." She sighed and leaned against Leliana's arm. "I know in my head that he is a good man; and in my heart, I care a great deal for him. I just can't reconcile that with my body. Whenever he touches me and I'm not expecting it, a wave of nausea hits me; it's like my body is screaming danger, danger, while my heart is screaming yes, yes. It's just so confusing."

"If you are so confused, then why did you kiss him yesterday?"

"I wanted to, and part of me thinks he really needed it. You saw how it motivated him; I guess it gave him something to fight for."

"So, you're using him?" Leliana seemed confused.

"No, maybe, I don't know. Leliana, I do care for him, and I want things to work, but it's going to take some time. I'm just afraid I'm moving too fast for myself."

"Well, all I know is, he's crazy about you. It's obvious to everyone. You should talk to him before either of you ends up getting hurt."

"I know, I know," Eriana said, glancing up at the red-head. "Just, don't say anything, okay? It's not exactly something I like to talk about. And I'll talk to Alistair, soon."

Leliana pulled the elf into a hug. "Good, I know he will understand," she said smiling. And Eriana had every intention of talking to Alistair, but then they walked into Redcliff Castle, and their whole world changed.

_

* * *

_

Whew! This was a long one, I know. Zevran lovers rejoice, he's coming up!


	9. Eriana 9

Eriana's footsteps echo through the halls of a deathly quiet Redcliff Castle. Time seems to have slowed as she moves through the castle in search of the boy. All she can hear are her own footsteps and the sound of her heart drumming in her ear. A fury of emotions threaten to paralyze her, guilt, doubt, fear, compassion, but with all the resolve she can muster, she forces herself forward. The decision has been made, and there is no time for second guessing herself. The daggers in her hands feel like they are made of lead, so she grips them tightly, afraid that if she loosens her hold even for a moment, the daggers will fall and with them her resolve.

Then, suddenly, the boy is standing before her, looking up at her with fear in his eyes. His voice shakes as he softly speaks, "Go away. She won't like you being here. The scary lady who speaks to me in my dreams, she'll just try to hurt you. Please go away." He is concerned for her, for her safety. Her breath catches in her throat, and she tries hard to swallow. "She's quiet now, but she's never very far away. She promised me that she would help father. I didn't think she would hurt everyone. This isn't what I wanted."

"I know, Connor; I'm sorry," she managed to say, "but I'm afraid this needs to end, now."

"Is that why you're here? Are you going to kill me? She said you would," Connor answered, his sad eyes looking terrified. Eriana's heart sank looking into those innocent eyes; fighting back tears, she nodded. "What's going to happen to me, when I'm dead?"

She knelt in front of him, "Your soul returns to the Maker."

"He always sounds so scary; will he be angry with me?"

"No, he will understand and give you peace."

"Will it hurt much?"

Sweet Maker it was too much. "No, Connor. I promise I will make it quick." She barely got the words out.

"Good, at least no one else will be hurt, and maybe Father will get better. That's all I really wanted," Connor said, trying desperately to sound brave, but the quiver in his voice nearly tore Eriana apart.

"Close your eyes, child," she whispered. Behind her, she could hear Isolde crying, struggling to get free of Alistair's arms, begging for the life of her son, begging Eriana to take her life instead. "Please forgive me. Go in peace to the Maker."

Isolde's wailed mournfully behind her as Connor fell to the ground, but Eriana barely heard it. She sank back on her knees and put her head in her arms, letting her tears flow freely. She kept telling herself it was the right decision, the only decision, but it didn't make it any easier. When she looked up, everyone was gone, and she was alone.

* * *

Eriana's eyes flew open as she sat straight up on her bed roll. Outside, the night was quiet except for the occasional rustling of leaves as the wind moved through the trees. Three times that night, she had returned to Redcliff Castle just as she had every night since they had left. Each dream was a bit different. Sometimes she fought with the demon; sometimes it was Conner who fought her. There were times that Connor's face was replaced by her brother with her mother screaming behind her, but the dreams always ended the same. She was always alone in the end, crying over Connor's broken body. She reached up and found that yet again her cheeks were wet from the tears she cried in her sleep, and Eriana found herself wishing the darkspawn dreams would return. The four nights since they left Redcliff for Denerim had been among the worst nights of her life, her dreams a constant reminder of the most difficult decision that she ever had to make.

To make matters worse, the days had been nearly as painful as the nights. Morrigan and Leliana remained supportive of Eriana, assuring her that she had made the right decision, but Alistair refused to speak to her. In fact, he had only spoken to her once since they left Redcliff, and that was to yell at her. Lying back down, she replayed that first night over in her head.

"How could you do that? How could you kill a child? I had no idea you were so heartless," he had screamed at her. "What will Eamon say when he wakes up to find that we killed his son? His son, Eriana," as if she hadn't been there; as if she hadn't been the one to do it. "I owe him more than that." And with that he stormed away, refusing to listen to anything else she had to say.

Eriana refused to go after him, though she felt like crying and begging him to listen, to forgive her. More than anything, she needed him to understand. Killing Conner was hard enough, but Alistair's cruel rejection of her was almost too much. But she refused to be weak. She would not beg for his forgiveness. If he wanted to pout and ignore her, then that was his prerogative. So the party walked in relative silence toward Denerim, but it was starting to wear on her. Eriana sighed. There was no way she was going to go back to sleep and force herself to relive that night again. Judging by the moon, she still had about three hours until the sun came up. She was about to go outside and sit by the fire when she remembered that Alistair had third watch. Great, that's all she needed. She could either lie here and suffer alone, or go outside and have Alistair glare at her till sunrise. Curling up in a ball, fighting tears, Eriana tried to bury herself in her bed roll. It was a long three hours.

Eriana was tired of walking in the front of the party, so she proclaimed that the men should walk in front while she, Morrigan, and Leliana brought up the rear. In truth, she was tired of feeling Alistair's angry stare on her back. At least now, he had to turn around to glare at her, and that was far too odious for someone who was making it very clear he was ignoring her.

Leliana leaned over and whispered into her ear, "You know, this is all becoming a bit ridiculous. You two have to make up eventually."

Eriana looked back at her, "I'm more than willing if he would grow up and start acting like an adult."

Leliana was about to reply when a woman came running up to them. "Oh, thank the Maker, we need help. They've attacked our wagons, please help us." She seemed genuinely distressed, but something didn't seem right to Eriana.

She shot a quick look over at Morrigan who whispered, "Mage."

Leliana quietly added, "Trap."

Notching an arrow from her quiver, Eriana softly said, "Well let's spring it then." She quickly nodded Leliana who took off toward the tree line so she could attack from cover, and after a quick hand signal, the dog took off after her. Together Eriana and Morrigan, took off after the distressed traveler and the men. "Take her out fast, Morrigan, before she can do too much damage," she whispered as they approached an over-turned wagon and smirking blond elf.

It was a perfect place for an ambush, Eriana realized as they walked up to the elf. The road was flanked on both sides with cliffs that would be ideal for positioning archers, and they could easily cut off our only exit from behind. Sure enough, as soon as they stopped, archers appeared on the bluff, swordsmen stepped out from behind the disabled wagons, and a tree crashed behind them, sealing off their only exit.

"The Grey Wardens die here," the elf shouted as he unsheathed a pair of daggers from his back, but before he had even finished talking, Morrigan hit the mage with a freeze spell that was quickly followed by pinning blow from Eriana's bow that shattered the frozen woman. One down.

"Sten, archers to the left; Morrigan take out as many as you can," shouted Eriana, unsheathing her own weapons. "I'll take care of the elf."

For a moment, the two elves circled each other, each one attempting to assess the weakness of the other, and then they danced. The assassin launched himself toward Eriana, his daggers moving more quickly than she believed possible. Deftly, Eriana blocked the attack with her dagger as she spun out of his way. She brought her sword down across her body, trying to land a blow on the assassin's shoulder, but he too was able to easily dodge her attack. As advisories fell around her, Eriana continued to engage the assassin, neither able to get a true upper hand on the other. He was obviously a more skilled swordsman, but she was younger and more flexible. Finally, after a grueling fight, Eriana was able to land a hit on his leg, leaving a deep cut on his thigh. He faltered, dropping his defenses as Eriana spun past him, and she brought the pummel of her sword down hard on the back of his head, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"And that, pretty boy, is why we wear helmets," she snapped at him.

"He's still alive, you know," Morrigan said walking up behind her.

"I know, and once I get him tied up, I want you to heal him for me. I have some questions for this one."

Sten and Alistair walked up as she finished binding his arms. "Are we clear, Sten?" The giant only nodded. As Eriana whistled to Leliana, signaling her that the coast was clear, the blond elf at her feet began to stir.

"What? I, oh no. I had rather hoped that I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all. So you haven't killed me yet?"

"Well, aren't you the master of the obvious. I have a few questions for you first," Eriana said, her left hand resting on the dagger at her hip.

"Ah, so I'm to be interrogated? Well, let me save you some time because you are clearly not in the mood for dalliance. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows sent here with the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, sadly."

Eriana's eyes narrowed. "Can't say that I'm too sad about that."

"Nor would I be in your shoes. But getting captured by a target puts a bit of a damper on a career as an assassin, don't you think."

"Especially for an Antivan Crow," said Leliana as she and he dog walked up to Eriana. "They are not known for their mercy. They are known for always getting the job done, so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man."

" So, Zevran," she said, clearly emphasizing his name, making it clear she was not his friend, "you are a hired killer. Then I suppose the only real information I need from you is the name of the person who hired you to kill me."

"A woman of business, I see. I was hired by a rather taciturn fellow in the capital, Loghain, I believe was his name."

"Fantastic, more of Loghain's supporters," Eriana muttered to herself. "That's all I need."

"Oh, I am not a supporter of Loghain. I have no idea what his issues are with you; I assume you threaten his power in some way, no? I was contracted to perform a service, without prejudice, that is all."

"So, you're not loyal to Loghain?"

"No, however, if you have no other questions, we can discuss loyalty a bit further. Here's the thing; I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. If you don't kill me, the Crows will." Eriana glanced over at Leliana upon hearing this, and she nodded in agreement. Zevran continued. "The thing is, I rather like living, and you are formidable enough to give the Crows some pause. So, let me serve you instead."

"Right, you want me to take you along. What would stop you from just finishing the job later?"

"Well, for one, I would be ridiculously foolish to try to kill you after you so efficiently handled my party. I am but one man, and it would be very had to kill you and escape without your friends killing me. And as I said, I like living."

"You must think I am royally stupid." Eriana said, twisting the silver ring on her left hand and looking down at him. There was no way she was buying this. He just tried to kill her, and now he is offering to join them. Just how stupid did he think she was? She wasn't sure why she was even listening to this anyway; she had the information she needed, just kill him and be done with it.

"No, I think you're royally tough to kill, not to mention royally beautiful." Eriana really bristled at that, glaring down at him. "Not that I think flattery will get me anywhere."

Eriana was tired of listening to this. It had been a long day already, and she really didn't have time to deal with this any longer. She was reaching for her dagger to kill the elf, when she caught a glimpse of her from the corner of her eye that struck her as far too familiar. Her stomach tightened compulsively as she was flooded with memories from her childhood, memories of Skylar, and all of a sudden, she couldn't do it. She simply couldn't bring herself to kill him.

"Fine, Zevran, I accept your offer."

"What!" Alistair's voice exploded behind her. "You're taking the assassin with us, now?" They were the first words he had spoken to her in four days, and of course, they were critical. She almost lost it. Spinning around she slammed her dagger against his breastplate.

"If you want to kill him, Alistair, you do it." Alistair stammered for a bit before turning and walking away. "Of course not," she muttered under her breath, "because that would mean you had to make a decision yourself." Eriana reached down and cut the ropes from the Antivan's wrists; offering him her hand, she pulled him to her feet.

Grinning smugly, Zevran stood before her, "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you until such a time you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation. This I swear."

Eriana simply nodded before handing him his weapons. Maker, she hoped her nostalgia hadn't swayed her into making a very bad decision.

* * *

That evening, Eriana stalked off to the edge of camp with Ramoth, too annoyed to sit by the fire and endure Alistair's silence any longer. She didn't seriously think it was possible for him to become any more surly, but Zevran's arrival seemed to exasperate the situation even more. She just needed to be alone so she could try to figure out how to fix the rift between her and Alistair. While she sat there, thinking, absentmindedly tossing a stick for Ramoth to fetch, Eriana heard the sound of unfamiliar footsteps. Zevran. Discretely, Eriana gave the dog the signal to move into cover, and watched as Ramoth disappeared into the bush, moving into a position where he would be ready to attack if necessary.

"Good evening, Zevran," she said, turning toward the assassin as he walked up.

Zevran smiled, "Warden, or should I call you by your name?"

"Warden is fine, for now. Is there something you needed?"

"No, no, no," said Zevran, taking a seat beside her. "I've just been amused by the stir my arrival seems to have caused. A rift between you and lover boy, no?" he asked with a smug smile on his face.

Eriana was too startled to keep an expressionless mask on her face; sweet Andraste how did he know? Zevran simply laughed at her shocked expression. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said, trying unsuccessfully to cover up her slip.

"Oh, I think you do," dang that smooth accent. "It seems quite clear that there is something between you two. Only people with some kind of relationship would go to such lengths to avoid each other."

Eriana raised an eyebrow at him, trying hard not to grin, "It's that obvious then? Well before you get it into your head that you are important enough to have caused this, just stop. You may have been the final blow, but this has been brewing for quite some time."

Zevran smiled, "Ah, so my arrival was not the cause of his pouting. Too bad, I suppose I'll have to try harder then, no? But just look at him now." Eriana turned and glanced back at the fire. There Alistair sat, still staring into the fire, his hands clinched in fists in front of him. "He is sitting, pretending to stare intently into the fire, but he is really discreetly watching us, well, watching you, rather. He is probably debating whether he should come over her and protect you from the dangerous assassin. But in order to do that would be to admit that he was watching or that he cares, and since he is far too angry to admit that, he must keep pretending to care while I get to talk to his captivating woman."

"So you've come just to annoy Alistair then?"

"No, but it is a pleasant side effect. I must say, the pleasure of your company is a far better reason. After all, a lovely lady such as yourself should not be alone on such a night as this," he sighed. "However, I must not linger long. The longer I stay, the more likely it is that he becomes concerned enough that his duty gets the better of his pride, and he comes to your rescue, no?"

"So, I need rescuing from you then?" she said, a slight smile crossing her face.

"Your life is in no danger from me, I assure you. I am true to my oath. I am your man in whatever capacity you need."

Eriana rolled her eyes. "I think I'll be just fine, thank you."

Zevran shrugged, "Until later then, perhaps? As it is now, the longer he sits and sulks, the longer I have your full attention, no?"

"His loss."

"Indeed, so what was it, if I may ask, that has driven our Alistair to his oath of silence?"

Eriana glanced over at Alistair and sighed. "Just a difference in opinion, I guess."

"Too soon for specifics, then? Well that's understood; I did try to kill you this morning. And on that note, I will take my leave, lest your knight feels obliged to rescue you. Good night, Warden." And with that, Zevran stood up and walked back to the camp. Eriana watched him go, but as she turned away, she locked eyes briefly with Alistair who simply glared and turned away.

Stupid, stubborn human.

_

* * *

_

Sorry about all the in-game dialogue. I found it a bit hard to get around using some of the dialogue. More original material to come. Thanks for the reviews.


	10. Zevran and Alistair 10

It took a lot for someone to genuinely surprise Zevran. As an assassin, he was well practiced at observing and reading people, but Eriana Tabris continued to surprise him. At their first meeting, he had incorrectly assessed her fighting prowess, assuming that since she was small and lithe that she would be easy to take in hand to hand combat. He quickly realized that he had vastly underestimated her there. When he learned that she was raised in the Denerim ailenage, he had assumed that she would be rather uneducated and poorly versed in politics. It wasn't long before she proved him wrong.

The day they entered Denerim was especially eye-opening for him. Much to his surprise, she chose to enter the city accompanied by only Morrigan, the dog, and him. After she told the group her plan, Leliana pulled her aside almost immediately.

"Are you sure you don't want to take Alistair or Sten? I don't mean to doubt you, but do you trust Zevran that much already?"

Eriana smiled, "Of course not, but I have my reasons, Lil. You're just going to have to trust me. I can't go in with a big, diverse group; it'll draw way too much attention. An armed elf like me will likely draw attention as it is. That and if I have to be near Alistair for another moment, I think may just lose it."

And with that, the small party headed toward the city. As it turns out, Eriana was right; their arrival in the market almost immediately drew the notice of a young guard who made a beeline toward the group.

"Hey, elf," barked the guard, derisively, "care to explain why you come into the market armed. Don't you know, elves who carry swords die on them?"

Eriana glanced over at Zevran looking aloof annoyed, and then, much to his surprise, Eriana began talking to him, perfectly mimicking his Antivan accent, "You see, dear friend, this is why I find this country so exasperating at times. I swear, if business didn't lead me here, I would never even bother crossing the border."

Zevran smiled, realizing instantly what she was doing. Very cleaver, he thought to himself. Her tan skin made her look slightly Antivan, and coupled with the accent, the guard would only assume that he was dealing with a pair of Crows. Cleaver indeed. "Indeed, perhaps we can be about our business quickly then, no?"

The guard shifted where he stood, now visibly uncomfortable. "You know the only good thing that has come from this wasteland is my dear Ramon here," she continued, stroking the mabari lightly on the head, "It is simply a shame that every time I bathe him, the smell brings me right back here," she said chuckling lightly. "You know that they like to corral their elves in this country, no? So uncivilized. Perhaps they assume we can be as easily detained."

The guard cleared his throat, obviously trying to reassert his authority and mask his nerves. "Excuse me."

Eriana looked back at the guard, annoyed, "Oh yes, right, you," she waited for him to continue. "Well, is there anything in particular you needed?" The guard started to stutter a bit, and Eriana surprised Zevran again. She glanced at Zevran, then said, in perfect Antivan, "_Take out one of your daggers and just casually mess with them a bit._" Her intent was clear, intimidate without overtly threatening, so Zevran simply pulled out a short dagger, casually examining it, feigning boredom.

"I, um, I just wanted to, well, make sure there was no trouble here."

Eriana discreetly pinched Ramoth's neck, causing the dog to emit a low growl, "Trouble, of course," she said, her eyes fixed intently on the guard, "well, I suppose that is entirely up to you, is it not? It seems to me that I was merely walking into the market when you approached me and began making threats, suggesting that I" and she emphasized the word as if it amused her, "I would die on my own sword. It seems to me that if you truly wanted to avoid trouble, then the wise thing to do would be to avoid me, no? Good, then I assure you, we will have no trouble." With that, she crossed her arms, glaring up at the guard.

"Of course, right, so sorry to disturb you," he managed to stutter, and he tried to maintain his dignity. He at least waited till he was almost out of sight before he began running.

Eriana grinned at her companions, "You know, I've always wanted to do that," speaking with her normal accent now. "I always hated those arrogant jerks who got stationed here. That will only work against the young, new guys, though. I'm afraid it won't fool the leader of the market guards, he knows me too well." Eriana glanced around the market. They had work to do, and it wouldn't be wise for them to split up now that they had garnered attention so quickly. So together, the party moved from vender to vender, and Eriana remarked that she was surprised by how many new faces tended the familiar stalls in the market. It seemed that most of the venders she remembered had moved into proper stores or left Denerim all together. That was good for them, thought Zevran; the fewer people who remembered her, the better.

As Morrigan was purchasing supplies for her potions and concoctions, Zevran looked over at the blond elf, "I have to say, that was quite surprising, my dear. Where ever did you learn to speak such perfect Antivan?"

"My mother taught me. She realized that there was a good chance that I may end up working in the market or with traders at some point, so it would be good for me to learn a second language. After she died, the bartender at the tavern continued giving me lessons."

"You got Antivan lessons from a bartender?"

"Yeah, well, I worked for him, and he was fluent. He would make me give him drink orders in Antivan, and then he would work with me as we were cleaning up."

"Was you mother from Antiva?" Zevran asked.

Eriana shrugged, "I'm not sure. I don't think she was Ferelden, but I never really thought to ask her, and Ada doesn't like to talk about her that much."

"Well, it was time well spent; the language rolls off your tongue like poetry. It has me very curious, however, as to what other hidden talents your tongue may possess; perhaps I could find out, no?"

"Ah, but alas, it would take far too long for me to demonstrate just what I can do, and our time is quite limited as it is. I suppose it's best left up to the imagination," Eriana said with a sly grin.

"I would consider it time well spent."

"And the rest of us will simply wait as we gouge out our mind's eye," Morrigan added dryly, as she walked up behind them.

Eriana laughed, shaking her head, as Morrigan joined them. "Come on, we need to get going." Zevran, grinning wickedly, fell in step beside her.

* * *

Alistair hated being left back at camp. He was furious with Eriana for going into the city and leaving him behind. Well, he was furious with her about a lot of things. How could this all have gone so wrong? That day before the battle in Redcliff seemed like a lifetime ago, but he could still remember the way her lips tasted on his, the she felt in his arms, and the way his heart hammered in his chest when she looked up at him. Then it all fell apart. Now, for the first time since she woke up in Flemeth's hut, she had left him, and with the assassin of all people. All he could do now was to wait for her to return.

"Alistair, this has to stop!"

Alistair's head jerked up to see Leliana standing infront of him, her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "I dunno what you're talking about."

"This, you, brooding. It has to stop. Do you want to drive her away, because if you do, you're doing a fantastic job of it." Leliana knelt down in front of him. "Look, Alistair, I know you are upset about Connor, but what's done is done, and we have to move on. She did what she believed to be right."

"Killing a child?" Alistair's voice started to rise.

"I'm not here to argue about that; I'm here to talk about Eriana. You need to talk to her. This brooding and ignoring her just isn't healthy. It's making you both completely miserable, and you can't afford to be miserable. She won't talk about it, and Maker forbid she show it, but this mess between you two is hurting her. Can't you see it? She's trying to be strong and trying to pretend that she isn't upset, but the tension between you is tearing her apart. I know that you care for her, and it's painfully obvious that this is hurting you too. Talk to her. Fix this and soon; because if you wait much longer, I'm afraid there may not be a relationship to save," Leliana finished sympathetically.

"What do you mean?"

"Simply this, you are not the only man in this camp who has his eye on our beautiful leader, and the Antivan, crude as he may seem, has his charms," she paused for a moment before walking away. "Talk to her."

* * *

"Braxton," Eriana said, smiling as she walked up to the bar. The barkeep's eyes lit up when he recognized the elf and he quickly came around the bar, lifting the blond woman into his arms.

"Ana Tabris, Maker bless me, I thought you were dead. When we heard what happened to the Wardens at Ostagar, we all assumed the worst."

"It was a close thing, but two of us made it out. How is my family, Braxton?"

Braxton shook his head, "I'm afraid I don't know. The ailenage has been shut up since you left. I'm sure you've noticed." Eriana nodded. "Speaking of which, what are you doing here? Don't you think coming back to Denerim is doubly dangerous for you?"

"I'll be gone before nightfall, I promise; I'm looking for Ferdinand Genitivi. Has he been in lately?"

"No, he still lives across the street, but I've not seen him in months. He left Weylon, his servant, behind though, so you may want to check with him."

They gave their quick goodbyes after Eraiana promised profusely that she would be careful, and the bartender promised to try to get contact her family. Zevran watched the entire exchange with great interest; it was like looking into Eriana's past for the briefest of moments. Her entire countenance seemed to change, to relax for a bit, and for a moment, she seemed younger, almost child-like. But the moment they left the tavern, the old Eriana returned, and it was back to business.

* * *

It was late afternoon before the party was ready to leave Denerim. The trip into Denerim had been surprisingly enjoyable for Zevran, and not just because they got to kill that fake assistant of Genitivi's, though that was fun. He was not ashamed to admit to himself that he enjoyed watching Eriana and not just because she was undeniably beautiful. The cocky swagger she had when she was dealing with that foolish guard was incredibly enticing, and he was intrigued by her even more as he learned about her past as well. Seeing her away from camp and away from that fool templar showed him a new side to her, a fun and light-hearted side. Of course, he still planned on killing her, eventually, but now, the prospect of bedding her first was almost too tempting to pass up. He glanced over at her as they walked, and she seemed rejuvenated in a way, he almost hated that they were headed back to camp.

"So, Warden, I had a question, something your bartender friend said confused me. Surprising, I know," Zevran said with a laugh. "He said it was doubly dangerous for you to be in Denerim."

"Well, you obviously know that as a Grey Warden, Denerim probably wasn't the safest place for me, but you see, I didn't exactly leave the city under the best of conditions." Eriana sighed, "I was conscripted into the Wardens. Duncan happened to be in the ailenage when I was being arrested and he conscripted me, probably saved my life."

"Arrested? Now I am intrigued, not that you were arrested but that you didn't evade capture. You seem too cleaver to be caught so easily, no?"

"There was no real escaping from what I'd done. I killed the son of the Arl of Denerim in his home. I also killed most of his personal guard; well, my cousin and I did."

It took everything in him to keep his jaw from dropping; killing nobility didn't seem her style. "I must confess, I did not see that one coming. Tell me, my dear, what drove you to such an act? You don't seem the noble-murdering type."

"What can I say," she said quite frankly, "some people need killing."

"A very enlightened way of looking at things; there aren't many who share that way of thinking though. So you killed Rendon Howe's son?"

"Rendon Howe, the Arl of Amaranthine? No, I killed Vaughan Urien. Is Arl Urien no longer in charge of Denerim?"

"No, from what I've heard, Howe had the former arl killed; I just hadn't realized it happened that recently, he seemed quite comfortable with the Regent."

"So Urien is dead? Serves him right," Eriana said bitterly. "The man was a snake. I remember him from the tavern; he always treated me like dirt just because I was an elf. He also took great pains to make sure the ailenage was kept in poverty and we elves, powerless. That being said, Howe isn't that much better. The elves from Amaranthine always complained about him, and from what I've heard from the other nobles, he's a snake, too. How do you know Howe anyway?"

Zevran chuckled softly, "He hired me to kill you, of course. He has a history of dealing with the Crows, a repeat customer, you may say. So you were not familiar with Howe himself then?"

"I met him a few times in the tavern; he only came into Denerim during a Landsmeet though, so I can't say I was familiar with him personally, just by reputation. Working in the tavern gave me an interesting perspective into politics. Sometimes I think more deals and policies were made in those booths than in the Landsmeet chambers. I can't say that I'm surprised he used the Blight and the confusion with Cailan's death to his advantage; he always seemed the opportunistic type."

"Lessons in Antivan and politics, this sounds more like a schoolhouse than a tavern. Tell me, did you learn any other lessons during your time as a barmaid?" Zevran asked as the camp came into sight.

"Yeah, don't drink anything labeled Orzammar unless you are a dwarf. If the smell doesn't knock you out, the sheer amount of alcohol in it will," she said, as they both laughed.

"Well, aren't you a wealth of knowledge, my dear little Warden," Zevran crooned in her ear.

"Eriana, Zevran, just call me Eriana."

"Ah, so I've earned the right to use your name, then."

"Well, anything is better than my little Warden," she grinned over at him, shoving him lightly with her forearm.

"Now that I'm allowed to say it, perhaps I can whisper it into your ear," he said, devilishly.

"Whisper?" Eriana sounded insulted, "No Zevran, I would hope you'd be screaming it, or gasping it, at least," she said as they walked into camp laughing.

Alistair played over the conversation in his mind. He would tell her that he had forgiven her for what she did in Redcliff and apologize for being so difficult. She would break down, crying in his arms, and apologize for everything; they would kiss and everything would be fine. Then she would say that keeping that dang assassin around was a mistake, and they would go off and kill him together. It would be perfect; they would be happy again, but his dream of a perfect reconciliation was shattered when the two elves strolled into camp, joking and laughing together. Eriana was almost glowing as she smiled over at that stupid, smug-looking Antivan, and pangs of jealousy ripped through Alistair's chest. He should be the one laughing and smiling with her he thought, forgetting for a moment the fact that his own behavior was the only thing keeping him from her side. Why is he laughing, and why is she touching him? Something snapped in Alistair's mind, and for the first time, his Templar discipline faltered as he strode angrily across camp to the returning party.

"We brought dinner," Eriana said cheerfully, "and it's not Fereldan rabbit stew."

Alistair grabbed her arm, sharply and pulled her toward him; ignoring her sharp, surprised cry of pain. "We need to talk," he said as he yanked her to the edge of camp. "Have you lost your mind or are you always this stupid?" She jerked back as if he slapped her, clearly hurt by his words, but he didn't care at the moment, he was just too angry. "I mean, not only did you keep the assassin alive, but you traipse off alone with him. Do you have a death wish, or something?"

"Okay, first off, I wasn't alone. Don't they teach you to count in the Chantry? I had Morrigan and Ramoth with me; that's three against one, one elf that I bested once already on my own. And don't stand there and pretend that this is about Zev because we both know it isn't."

Alistair flinched slightly when he heard her use the elf's nickname, "Are you so sure about that?"

"Yes, you've been more irritable than a hungry mabari since we left Redcliff. At least man up and admit you're still mad about Connor," she snapped at him.

"Okay, yes, I am," Alistair shouted at her. "We should have tried to save him, but you did the easy thing."

"The easy thing! The easy thing!" Eriana was now shouting too, "You think killing that boy was easy. Alistair don't you know me at all? That was the single hardest thing I've done in my entire life, but I had to do it. I had to make that call. But since you're the one with all the answers, tell me, Alistair, just what should I have done? You've had more than a week to think about it, what would you have done?"

"I don't know; I would have done something else, though," he retorted, angrily. "But he was just a boy; he didn't deserve to die. It was Isolde's fault."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. Maker help me, are you a templar or aren't you. Are you telling me you would condone blood magic? Blood magic?" She was aghast. "So you would sacrifice the mother, risk our only mage in the Fade on the possibility that the blood ritual _might_ work. If the ritual didn't work, we would have lost Isolde, Morrigan, and we would have still had to kill the boy."

Alistair threw up his hands, "Fine, but what about the Circle? They could have helped us."

"Eight days, Alistair. It would have taken us eight days at least to get to the Circle Tower and back, and while we were running off for help, we would have left that demon behind to terrorize Redcliff. Now, we're risking the lives of everyone still alive in the castle and the village. Do you think I want that kind of blood on my hands, that guilt hanging over me? Alistair, this was the only way to avoid more death, surely you can see that! Even if you can't see reason, tell me this. What do you call a mage possessed by a demon, Templar?" She said, spitting out the last word.

"An abomination," Alistair said quietly, "But.."

"No buts, it's an abomination. Now you told me about the Harrowing you witnessed. What happened to the mage who woke up possessed?" When Alistair said nothing, she continued, "The templars killed her. So could you please explain to me how this is any different? Huh? It's not; the only difference is that you are personally involved. You let your own feelings rule dictate your actions when you should have been thinking about the greater good."

Alistair looked down at his feet; he knew she was right. He had let his feelings for Eamon cloud his better judgment then berated Eriana for doing what was necessary. He started to speak when she cut him off.

She was still visibly angry, but at least she wasn't shouting anymore, "Look, you put me in charge because you didn't want to make the hard decisions. I get it, and I don't mind. What I do mind is you incessant need to question every single decision that I make." She poked him in the breastplate emphasizing the last few words. "If you wanted to make the hard calls, then you should have taken over in Lothering, but you didn't, so you lose the right to second guess and criticize everything I do. Ask me about stuff, advise me, but don't yell at me and pout if things don't go your way. This job is too hard without having to defend myself to you every time I make a decision, and it's not fair. If you're unhappy, you only have yourself to blame." And with that, she turned on her heel, and headed back into camp. "Someone wake me up for third watch; I need to get some sleep," she said ducking into her tent as Alistair followed her, into camp.

Leliana shook her head at him. "That's not exactly what I meant when I told you to talk to her," she said before ducking after Eriana into her tent.

On the outskirts of camp, Zevran sat in the shadows, silently observing the arguing Wardens. This job may be easier than he thought; if the two of them keep it up, they may very-well kill each other before Zevran had to do anything.


	11. Eriana and Zevran 11

The group fell into an uneasy routine as they began the journey toward Haven. The three rogues usually walked in the lead, taking turns scouting ahead with the dog, Morrigan, who preferred walking in silence, served as a kind of buffer in the middle, and Sten and Alistair brought up the rear. The blow-up between her and Alistair had been weighing heavily on Eriana since they left Denerim, and she was slowly growing more irritable. She still cared for Alistair, but his words had left a deep hole in her heart. Only a handful of people had ever called her stupid, all of them human men, too. She tried to reassure herself that Alistair wasn't like the other men she had encountered, but right now, he was treating her just the same as they all had. It hut her more than she cared to admit, and it surprised and scared her just how much it hurt. Did she really care for Alistair that much that his words could hurt her so deeply, or was she simply feeling betrayed? She didn't really want to consider the fact that she may have such intense feelings for a human. It was far easier to let herself be distracted by her friends for the time being, and Leliana and Zevran were great for that. They usually kept the conversations light, Leliana often talking about Orlaisian fashion while Zevran entertained her with tales of his previous, successful, assassinations and his strange obsession with leather. It was easy to be friends with them, and it kept her mind off the person who used to walk beside her, entertaining her with stories of templars and wardens.

The evenings in camp followed much the same routine as well. Eriana would make it a point to speak with Morrigan each night, but she had all but given up on Sten and Alistair. She was sick of trying to force Sten to say more than a word or two to her, and until he acknowledged her, Alistair was a lost cause.

The party was camping in the foothills of the Frostback Mountains one evening, and Leliana was playing with the blond elf's hair, telling her stories about Orlesian hair trends.

"Now, wait a second. Women went out in public with live birds in their hair? On purpose?" Eriana said, laughing.

"Oh yes, for a time it was very fashionable. Then they realized what little birds do when they are frightened or startled. The trend ruined more than a few expensive dresses before it became passé," Leliana explained, twisting the elven woman's hair into an elegant twist at the base of her neck. "Eriana, my dear, you should let me do your hair more often."

"Right, because the darkspawn definitely care what I look like," Eriana said with a laugh. When Leliana started to pout, Eriana relented, "Okay, as long as you don't put anything alive in my hair, you can do it. Just nothing too crazy, okay?"

"Deal," Leliana squealed excitedly.

"Nothing too crazy, well that doesn't sound too fun," said a smooth, devious voice. The women both smiled as Zevran walked up, holding a few blankets. "I for one prefer things a bit crazy."

"We know, we've heard your stories. Anyway," Leliana said, getting up, "I'm on third watch tonight, so I probably need to get some sleep." She gave Eriana a quick peck on the cheek, and darted across camp.

Zevran handed Eriana one of the blankets, "It's a cold night to be on watch, perhaps I can provide more than a blanket to keep your warm, no?"

"Why don't you just keep me company, Zev; that should be enough," she said, patting the log beside her."

"Ah, so a cold night for me too then," he said, sitting beside the Warden. "I have a question, if I may."

"Of course, go ahead."

"I am very good at reading people, at observing them and surmising their behavior; it is why I excel at what I do. You however have mystified me on several occasions now."

Eriana raised an eyebrow at him, "Really?"

"Oh yes, and now that I am quite confident that you won't change your mind and kill me, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. Why didn't you kill me after I attacked you? I was quite certain that you were going to; that was your plan, no? To extract all useful knowledge from me then eliminate the threat."

Eriana nodded, sadly. "No offense, Zev, but it was very foolish of me to allow you to live. You were a liability that threatened me and my friends, and what we are doing is far too important to have allowed such a threat to remain." She glanced over at him, "I had already decided that you had to die, but when the time came, I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Well now I'm extremely curious; what was it that changed your mind?"

Eriana sighed, pulling Zevran's blaket tightly around her. "Something about the way you looked reminded me of my brother, and I just couldn't do it."

"Oh, so your brother is a devilishly handsome man, then?"

She chuckled lightly, "No, well, yes he was, but that wasn't it. You don't look a thing like Skylar, neither do I for that matter. He was too Fereldan, pale skin, dark hair." She sighed, "No, it was the way you were sitting, the way you looked up at me." Eriana stopped and tried to decide if she really wanted to talk about this; she had buried these feelings so long ago. "I haven't seen my brother in ten years, not since the day he left to get married. You see, in ailenages most marriages are arranged, often arranged with elves from other cities. If your parents are well off or save up enough, they can arrange a good match for you, but chances are you won't meet your betrothed till your wedding day. Well, my parents had arranged a marriage for my brother with a girl from the ailenage in Highever but couldn't afford to travel with him to the wedding, so they arranged for him to travel with some merchants who were going to Highever."

She sighed, "I remember the last time I saw him like it was yesterday. It was the morning he was to leave for Highever, and my parents sent me in to wake him up. Being an annoying little sister, I didn't do it gently. I jumped on his bed and poured water on his face shouting, 'wake up, Sky.'" She smiled sadly to herself, tears threatening to escape her eyes, "He pulled me down and tickled me before he rolled me onto the floor and kicked me out. Just before I left, I remember looking back at him, still lying in his bed, and he grinned up at me with the same sly look you had when we first met. That's why I couldn't kill you; when I looked down at you lying there, it was like looking back as Skylar all over."

"And you haven't seen him in ten years? Perhaps we should pay a visit to Highever then when we travel north."

Eriana shook her head, "My brother never made it to Highever. Three days after he left, a member of the traveling party returned to Denerim. Their caravan was attacked a day out of the city; the man who told us was the only survivor. Needless to say, the news devastated may parents; they blamed themselves, my father especially. When my mother heard the news, she grabbed me by the arm and took me into the alley behind the house; then she knelt in front of me and handed me two daggers. She looked me in the eyes and told me that I would know how to defend myself; she wasn't going to lose another child because she didn't train me to defend myself. I was seven years old."

"Your mother started training you to fight when you were seven?"

Eriana nodded, "She always regretted not training my brother; I guess she didn't think he had the aptitude for it, he could be rather clumsy. My mother taught me a lot of things over the years. I learned to pick locks and pockets, and she made sure I could read and write. I suppose that she didn't want me to have the life that she had, I don't know."

Zevran reached out and pulled her close to his side with one hand and brushed her hair out of her eyes with the other. She rested her head on his shoulder, fighting back tears, as they sat in silence for a while. "Wait a second," Zevran said, looking down at her, "you said this happened ten years ago, right?" Eriana nodded. "So does that mean you are only…"

"Seventeen, yes, no wait, what month is it? I may be eighteen now." She glanced up at him, "Why? Does that surprise you?"

"Frankly, yes. You have much wisdom and maturity for one so young."

"Maturity comes with a hard life. Most elves who live in the ailenage grow up quickly I'm afraid. Thank you for listening Zev. It's just hard to think about home sometimes; despite the difficulties we faced, there is so much I miss about it. I just never thought I'd leave it; I never imagined I'd be here."

"It seems you mother did; after all, she prepared you for a life outside the alienage, no?"

"I guess so, but honestly, what could prepare me for this?" she said, waving her hand around. "Building an army when I've only been in one battle ever; crossing Fereldan to collect allies when I'd never even left the city," she shrugged and snuggled closer to the assassin. "I've had to learn a lot on the fly; I just hope my mistakes aren't big enough to doom us all." Eriana looked up at Zevran, "For what it's worth, I'm glad I kept you alive, Zev. You've been a good friend, and it's been nice having another elf around. I've never been around this many humans in my life; nice as they are, it can be a bit unnerving."

"You know, any time you want to feel closer to home, my services are always available. I could give you a taste of what you've been missing," he said, raising an eyebrow, deviously at her.

"And then you make me regret it all over again."

* * *

"A friend, she called me a friend. After such a short time, she already considers me a friend; how could she be so naive?" Zevran thought to himself. True, he had not tried to kill her again, but she seemed too practical to take his oath at face value and drop her defenses so quickly. Perhaps the tension between her and Alistair was taking a greater toil on her than they realized; it seems to have broken her in a way, made her vulnerable, made her easy prey for the likes of him. In a way, Zevran almost felt sorry for her. It made sense, really. She had been shunned by the man she cared for, so she reached out for something familiar. Too bad for her, he wasn't one of her alienage elves; sure he would comfort her, tend to her needs, then he would finish the job he was contracted to do. Only one thing gave him pause. Eighteen, she was only eighteen, not much more than a child; even among the Crows she would have been little more than an apprentice. He tried quickly to banish the thoughts from his head; it would have only made his job more difficult. Best focus on the task at hand.

Zevran was pulled from his reverie as Eriana and Leliana returned from scouting the village of Haven. Eriana was explaining her plan for infiltrating the secluded village. "We can't go in there together, a group our size would be far too conspicuous. Morrigan, do you think you could fly around and keep an eye on things as a hawk or something? Leliana, you take Ramoth and follow us on the edges of the village, but stay hidden. If anything comes at us, you can attack from cover." Leliana nodded. "Alistair, Zev, Sten, and I will go in, pretending to be travelers, so carry your packs. The village seems quiet, but I just have a feeling that there is something very shady going on here."

Eriana was right, there was something very wrong in this village; the streets were eerily empty, missing the normal mid-morning bustle. The guard who met them at the gate was less than accommodating, telling them to do their business and then leave. Zevran could tell that Eriana was on edge about the whole situation, and her patience was wearing thin. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one unhappy about the situation, and Sten made his objections very clear.

"An interesting strategy, tell me, do you intend to keep going north until it becomes south and attack the archdeamon from the rear?"

"Well, he'd never see it coming," Eriana barked back at him shortly, and Zevran realized immediately that it was a mistake.

"The archdeamon is our goal," Sten said sternly, "and instead of going after it, we are traipsing around in the opposite direction looking for the charred remnants of a dead woman. I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle."

Eriana glanced over her shoulder at Sten, but kept walking, "Sorry you feel that way, but I'm in charge and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Not anymore; I'm taking command."

Eriana spun around and crossed her arms as she stared up at him, "I don't think so."

"Defend yourself Warden; we'll settle this," said Sten, drawing his long-sword.

Zevran watched in amazement as the petite elf went toe to toe with the giant Qunari warrior, her twin blades crashing with his two-handed sword. Sten's movements were slow, but powerful and precise. Eriana, on the other hand was quick and deftly avoided his blows, trying to maneuver behind the warrior. "Wear him out, and use his strength against him. Get him off balance then take him down. His armor is week just beneath the arm; a quick jab there would make his attacks less effective epically with your poisoned blade, so catch him when his arm is up," Zevran found himself silently coaching her, an unfamiliar feeling of concern growing in his chest. She was landing blows and avoiding the most violent of the Qunari's attacks, but she wasn't wearing him down fast enough. Suddenly, Sten seemed to catch the elven woman unaware and managed to land a hard blow to her left shoulder, but she managed to roll with the impact, using her momentum to knock Sten down hard on his side. She quickly righted herself and perched on the prostrate giant's back, her dagger on his throat, and Zevran felt himself breathe a sigh of relief.

"I was wrong, Warden; it seems you are strong enough," Sten conceded, "What now?"

"Just get back in line, Sten; we'll talk about this later. But if you pull anything like that again, don't think I won't hesitate to kill you," Eriana said, sternly. Then she handed him a vial, "You'll want to drink this, before the deathroot poison gets too deep into your system."

Zevran felt himself pulled toward her, desperately wanting to check her for cuts, bruises, any injuries the duel may have left on her, but he managed to stop himself before he moved more than a step. Was this true concern for her well-being that he was feeling? Surely not. He didn't have much time to process his thoughts any further; he was too distracted by a blur of silver that came hurdling past him, nearly careening into Eriana.

"Sweet Andraste, are you okay?" Alistair asked in a panicked voice, frantically searching her for injuries. "Oh, I thought he was going to take your arm off; I should have stopped him. I'm so sorry; I've been such a fool. I can't believe I almost lost you again; forgive me, please forgive me. I mean talk about a royal bastard…" He continued to babble over the bewildered looking elf as he spewed apologies. Talk about a sudden change of heart; Zevran imagined that seeing your woman nearly dismembered by a giant may just put things into perceptive. He watched as Eriana gently put a hand up to Alistair's mouth to quiet his senseless ramblings.

"Alistair, I'm okay, really. And I'm touched to see that you care," she said, much more sweetly than Zevran would have. The templar deserved to be blasted for the way he had treated her, but what did he care?

Alistair pulled her close to him with one hand and used the second to brush her hair back. "Could you ever forgive me, I've been such a fool? You are right, have been right about everything; I've just been too stubborn to admit it. Please say you forgive me."

Eriana smiled up at him, her face lighting up more than Zevran had ever seen; his stomach churned for a moment. "I do, but now isn't the time to talk about it. Why don't you see to Sten while Zevran and I checkout these houses, okay?"

Eriana locked eyes with the assassin and nodded toward one of the nearby homes; he followed her toward the house. Once they were inside, Eriana began removing the shoulder guard from the left side of her armor, revealing a deep gash following the curve of her shoulder. "Do you think you could sew this up, Zev?"

"Of course, but why ask me? Alistair and you are obviously back on speaking terms, why not ask him to do it?" he asked as he started cleaning her wound.

Eriana winced as he dabbed the deep wound with a poultice. "He's too emotional right now. If he saw this, he'd probably try to behead Sten."

"If this cut was much deeper, he may have just reason to; if you were any slower, you would have lost this arm. But, I must say, you perplex me once again, Warden. Why didn't you behead him yourself?"

Eriana sighed, "He's a good warrior, and this is probably how Qunari settle differences. Granted, if he tries it again, no mercy that time." She said, her shoulder twitching slightly as Zevran began to sew her skin together. "I guess I prefer keeping the people who try to kill me around. Keeps me on my toes."

Zevran was trying hard to concentrate on stitching up Eriana's injury, but he was finding it difficult being this close to her again, feeling her soft skin beneath his calloused fingers. She was vulnerable here, alone with him; he could easily kill her and sneak out while the others were distracted and scattered, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She glanced back at her shoulder as he finished stitching her skin together and then smiled up at him. "That looks good, thanks, Zev." He swallowed hard and nodded, wrapping her arm in a bandage before helping her reattach her shoulder piece.

He allowed his hand to brush up and down the back of her arm, "You know, you need to be careful with that arm, no rough sword play or you may tear out the stitches," and he felt her shutter slightly under his hand.

He started to pull away, he heard her gasp and step back into him, grabbing his hand. "What is that?" she asked, pointing across the room. Directly in front of them was an alter surrounded by candles, dripping with blood. "Surely that's not human blood."

"I believe it is. I have heard of cults who perform human sacrifices, but have never been unfortunate enough to encounter them myself," he said, tightening his hold on her arm. She glanced up at him and he felt her shiver in under his hand.

"Come, on," she said taking his hand, "the sooner we get out of this town, the better."


	12. Eriana 12

"You're not from Haven, are you?" the store proprietor asked Eriana.

Why did everyone feel the need to point that out; of course I'm not from Haven. From what she had seen, there weren't many people from Haven at all. This village was unlike anything Eriana had ever experienced before. Ever since she and Zevran discovered the bloody alter, she couldn't shake an uneasy feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach. They were being watched; she knew it. There seemed to be shadows stalking their every move, unseen eyes scrutinizing every action. Even Zevran seemed to be uneasy, constantly scanning the crevices and corners that bordered the village square.

"No, we were passing through and needed to restock our supplies, and we had an old map showed this village," she said, smiling up at the nervous shop keeper, trying hard to be as discrete as possible. Alistair and Sten stayed standing behind her as Zevran began to wonder around the store. Eriana started talking to the shopkeeper about their supply needs and what they had to sell, trying to draw his attention away from Zevran as he moved about, scoping out the store. Despite her best efforts to engage the proprietor, his eyes kept flitting nervously to the assassin as he moved around the store; yep, this guy was definitely hiding something.

"Hey! You can't go back there," he shouted at Zevran as the elf moved toward the back room of the store. Zevran raised an eyebrow, but didn't withdraw from the door.

"Why?" asked Eriana, "Do you have something that you're trying to hide?"

The nervous man glanced back and forth between the two elves refusing to say anything. Suddenly, the man reached down and drew a dagger from beneath the counter and lunged across it, straight at Eriana. Seconds passed slowly for Eriana as she tried, unsuccessfully to move out of the man's grasp, but just before he slammed into her, she saw a flash of silver fly across the room. The store keeper slammed into her and they both tumbled to the floor, hot, red blood covering the elf. Quickly, she pushed the man off her and rolled across the floor; only then did she notice one of Zevran's daggers lodged in the man's temple. She glanced over at Zevran who merely shrugged and disappeared into the back room.

"I guess he's hiding something," said Alistair as he pulled her to her feet, wiping the blood off her face.

"This whole town is hiding something. We're close, I can feel it," Eriana said as she retrieved Zevran's dagger.

"I think I've found what this one was hiding," Zevran shouted from the back room.

As soon as she entered the room, the strong smell of death and decay hit her. Covering her nose and mouth, she walked up behind Zevran and looked down at the decomposing human remains. "Just when I think things couldn't get worse."

"That is the seal of Redcliff," Alistair said, aghast. "This was one of Eamon's knights; I would bet anything that Genitivi is here somewhere."

Eriana couldn't stand the smell of the decaying body any longer, so she made her way back to the front of the store, trying to make sense of everything. The store owner had tried to kill her, and they had already killed some of Eamon's knights as well as Genitivi's assistant. She was sure the urn was close, but why were these people trying so desperately to hide it? As she was pacing the length of the store, some movement outside caught her attention. "Um, guys, you may want to get out here; it looks like we have some company."

By the time the group fought their way through a mob of angry villagers in the streets and in the Chantry, Eriana was completely exhausted. She should have been happy that they had found Brother Genitivi, but she was simply too tired to care and was pretty sure that she had torn out every stitch that was holding her shoulder wound together. "Let's just stay in the Chantry tonight," she said, looking up at the late-afternoon sky that was beginning to fill with ominous clouds, "we'll continue up to the temple tomorrow."

The men quickly cleared out the room with Eriana went out to fetch Leliana and Morrigan, filling them in on what they had discovered. As Leliana and Morrigan started preparing dinner, Fereldan rabbit stew again, and everyone else began setting up a makeshift camp in the Chantry, Alistair pulled Eriana gently into a corner.

Taking her in his arms, he looked down at her, "I am so sorry about the way I've been treating you; I feel like an absolute jerk. I should have been more supportive of you. I just didn't know how to react to everything that happened in Redcliff, and I handled it..badly." (You can say that again, Eriana thought). Alistair continued, "Part of me knew I was being childish, but when you came back from Denerim, laughing with Zevran, I don't know, something in me snapped, and I wanted you to hurt, to feel as badly as I did. Then I did something I swore I'd never do; I hurt you, purposefully even. I have felt awful ever since then, but I wasn't sure how to apologize or if you even wanted me to."

Eriana looked down, unable to hold Alistair's gaze any longer. "I was being childish," he continued, tucking a hair behind her ear, "and foolish. Here was the woman I cared about, and I was pushing her away because of my own stupid pride."

"What changed things, then," she asked without looking up at him, so he lifted her chin gently so he could look in her eyes.

"What changed is that I realized I could lose you. When Sten attacked you today, I was so afraid that he would kill you. Seeing him coming at you with that sword woke me up in a way; it made me realize just how much I had come to care for you, just how much I stood to lose if anything happened to you."

"Alistair, I," she stopped for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. She sighed, "I already told you that I forgave you, but that doesn't exactly heal the hurt. I needed you, and you weren't there for me. In fact, if it was even possible, you made me feel worse. I know you're sorry, but hurt like that doesn't just go away just because you say you're sorry."

"I know, and I intend to do anything within my power to make it up to you." He kissed her gently on the forehead and pulled her close, "And I promise you this, I will never, never hurt you like this again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Alistair. You don't know what our future holds," she whispered, turning her head away.

"Well, if I have any say in it, I plan on my future holding you. I know that this is a bit soon, but I've come to care for you, Eriana. I've cared for you from the first moment I met you. I just hope that it's possible that you care for me too; perhaps it's just foolish of me to hope for that, after all this. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but is it possible that you may come to feel the same way about me?"

Eriana closed her eyes for a moment as a rush of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. She knew he had feelings for her, but to hear him profess them was something completely different. "Say no, save yourself the heartache, the pain, the confusion," her head shouted while her heart was screaming, "you love him, you want to be with him, say yes!" She was about to follow her head when she looked into his honey-colored eyes. "I already do," she heard herself say.

"That's all I need to hear," and before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers and her heart was in her throat. She felt his hands move up her back, as her hands found their way into his hair. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, metal and sweat, and felt his breath catch as she broke the kiss and looked up at him. He sighed as he brushed her hair back over her ear, the contact sending a shiver down her spine. "Maker's breath, you're beautiful. I'm a lucky man. Now, we need to decide where you're sleeping tonight."

Eriana jerked back, looking up at him, a shocked expression crossing her face. "Are you suggesting…"

Alistair laughed, "No, no, no, of course not; it's just, well you kind of gave Brother Genitivi your bedroll for the night. I was wondering if you considered where you would sleep."

"Oh, dang it, I didn't even think about that."

"Don't worry; I'll run down to that store to see if I can find you anything. I can't have you freezing to death now that you're finally talking to me again," he said kissing her gently on the top of the head before heading toward the front of the Chantry.

Eriana glanced back at her companions. Leliana was absolutely glowing with excitement over the reunion with Alistair, but Zevran's expression was stoic, his face almost as unreadable as Sten's. She gave them an embarrassed smile and was beginning to walk toward them when she heard Alistair shout out in pain just outside the Chantry. Assuming the worst, she ran for the doors, grabbing her daggers as she passed her pack; Zevran and Leliana followed, both arming themselves as they ran. The sun had just set, and snow was falling heavily around them as they stepped out into the cold, carefully scanning the area in front of the Chantry. "Alistair?" Eriana tentatively spoke into the whitening twilight. She was met with a moan of pain from the bottom of the steps. She started toward him only to have him shout at her.

"No, stop, be careful."

Eriana glanced around, anxiously, seeing nothing, she asked, "What is it, who did this?"

"No one," Alistair said, in obvious pain, "There's ice on the steps."

Eriana relaxed, "Maker's breath, Alistair, I thought someone had attacked you," Eriana said as the other rogues behind her relaxed as well. She was almost next to him before she noticed that his leg was bent, but not at the knee. "Um, Leliana, do you think you could get Morrigan and Sten out here? He's broken his leg pretty badly."

They managed to splint the leg and helped Alistair back into the Chantry so that Morrigan could look at the break. "Even with healing magic, tis unlikely that it will be healed for a few days," Morrigan told her. "He will need to remain here for at least two days to allow it to heal properly."

Eriana nodded, twisting the ring on her left hand as she considered their options. They didn't have two days to wait; Eamon could already be dead. They needed to get to the urn as soon as possible. She would need to leave someone with Alistair; he would be defenseless if she didn't, but who? With Alistair down, she would need Sten's sword if they encountered hostiles (and who was she kidding, they always encountered hostiles). Morrigan's healing and spells were also a must, so that left Leliana and Zevran. Though she trusted Zevran not to kill her, she wasn't sure if his vow applied to Alistair as well. That left Leliana. Of all the people in the group, Leliana was the most excited about seeing Andraste's ashes, but she was the only one that Eriana could leave with Alistair. Eriana sighed. She'd tell her in the morning; the day had been too long as it was already.

Kneeling beside Alistair's bedroll, she explained her plan to him. He wasn't exactly pleased with the fact that she was leaving with Sten and Zevran. "You do realize that you are now going out with two people who tried to kill you in the last month, right? Not that I'm questioning you, I won't make that mistake again, but are you sure there's no other option?"

"It's Zevran or Leliana, and I think he would drive you crazy if it was just the two of you," she explained, gently. "I'll be okay, Alistair, I promise."

He didn't look reassured, but he relented. "I never did make it down to the shop to get you something to sleep on, so why won't you just stay here, with me?"

"Alistair, I don't think that's a good idea."

"No, it's not like that; I mean Morrigan gave me this pain-killing potion that will knock me out. I just, I'd feel better if you were near me right now, and you need a warm place to sleep. Please?"

Oh, this was a bad idea, Eriana was sure of it. They were just starting to work things out between the two of them and moving too fast would just complicate things for both of them, and she was still trying to work past the fact that Alistair was a human. She truly did want things to work with him, but this made her nervous. Alistair was a good man, even if he was slightly immature, and she knew that he would never take advantage of her. She would be safe with him, physically at least. He just looked so pitiful, lying there in pain, looking at her with pleading eyes, so she relented and fell asleep, her head on his chest.

* * *

The next day was another long one for Eriana. True, none of her companions tried to kill her that day, but cultists, mages, and baby dragons sure did. The strange behavior of the town's people finally started to make sense to her; they were, as they called themselves, Disciples of Andraste who were worshiping and protecting her risen form. It wasn't until after they killed her leader that Eriana realized what the risen Andraste was. "A dragon, they're worshiping a dragon?" Eriana said as they walked out of the tunnels.

"We aren't actually planning on fighting that thing, are we?" asked Zevran as the huge dragon flew over their heads. "Perhaps we could just sneak past it."

Eriana watched the dragon fly through the evening sky. "We have about three hours till sunset; let's rest here and sneak past it once it gets dark, maybe it won't see us." Everyone nodded and moved back into the cave's entrance, settling down to wait for the sun to set. Eriana made her way over to Zevran who had been unusually quiet for most of the day; he smiled up at her with his sly, confident grin was she sat down.

"So, my Warden, once we have revived the Arl, what is our next course of action?"

"We recruit our allies. The Grey Wardens have standing alliances with Orzammar, the Circle of Mages, and the Dalish Elves, so we need to visit each of them and secure their assistance against the Blight. I'm not too thrilled about going to Orzammar; there's something about being that far underground that makes me very uneasy, but I'm very excited about seeing the Dalish."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"When I was growing up, I always imagined running away from Denerim and joining the Dalish; my cousins and I talked about it all the time when we were little after listening to stories about them. It seemed so nice, living away from the city, away from humans. There were several times after my mother died that I would have left to find them, but it would have killed my father. I was always fascinated with them but have never had the opportunity to meet any Dalish."

"Yes you have, in a way," Zevran said, looking over at her. "My mother was Dalish, so I was told. She fell in love with an elven woodcutter and moved with him into the city where he promptly died. She was forced into prostitution to pay off his debt."

"Zev, that's horrible."

"Is it; it was a common enough tale among the other boys in the whore house. I never knew my mother either; she died giving birth to me, my first victim as it were," he said sadly. "Were were raised communality by the whores, a happy enough existence, except for the occasional beating and then I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear."

Eriana reached over and took Zevran's hand, "I'm so sorry Zevran."

He smiled, putting his hand over hers, "Don't be, my life could have been much worse, as you well know. Your life hasn't been idyllic, no? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment. Anyway," he continued, lightly stroking her hand, "my mother's Dalish heritage was always a point of fascination for me, much like the Dalish fascinated you, I assume. Through my Crow training, I possessed only one thing that was my mother's, a pair of leather gloves, Dalish make. They were beautiful. I had to keep them hidden; such items were considered sentimental, not something encouraged by the Crows. They were eventually discovered and subsequently destroyed."

Orphaned at birth, raised in a whorehouse, sold into slavery, she had no idea his life had been so wrought with suffering. "Have you known no joy in your life Zevran?" Eriana asked, looking up at him.

"Oh, I have known great joys in my life; I take my joys and pleasures where I can find them. I have expected nothing less of life."

Eriana shook her head, "That's not quite what I was talking about Zev. Pleasure, yes, you've known great pleasures in life, but I don't think that's quite the same. When I think of joy, I think of moments that make you feel perfectly contented, moments that you can return to in your memory and they make you feel whole inside. You've told me so much about your life, but you never seem really happy about. It seems like you've been through so much and most of it, you've endured alone. I would be so bitter if I had suffered half as much as you have."

Zevran was silent for a moment before he looked back at Eriana, "Yes, I have endured much, but if being an assassin has taught me anything it is this. Life can be short and dwelling on the past whether it be happy or sad only takes away from the time at hand. It is best to find your joy in the moment and live your life in the present. You cannot change the past, nor can you regain something already lost. Better to take stock in the pleasures here and now, no?"

"You can really do that, just shut out the past like it never happened?"

"Not completely. I learn from my experiences; I just don't let them affect my happiness now like you do." Eriana glanced up at him. "I can see it in you; you allow so much to weigh on you. It is too much baggage for one with so many present worries. You take too much on you, and one day, you will find it is too much unless you learn to leave some of it behind."

Perhaps he was right; it all made sense to her in a way. Her past had already hindered her relationship with Alistair; it put her in danger when she lashed out at Daveth. Could she truly be happy now, in the present? She patted Zevran on the arm, "Don't worry about me, Zev. I'll figure out some way to carry it all. Come on, I think it's dark enough for us to get past that dragon now."


	13. Zevran and Eriana 13

It was well after dark before the party finally stopped and set up camp. They were still a half a day's journey from Redcliff, so it was senseless to push themselves any further that night. Since they left Haven, Alistair had been pushing them ridiculously hard to reach Redcliff as quickly as possible. Zevran sat by the fire, meticulously polishing his twin daggers, trying very hard not to fixate on the Wardens who sat across the fire. Eriana was joking with Alistair about his atrocious cooking, as it was his turn to make dinner (Zevran had decided to just wait till they got to Redcliff to eat rather than suffer through another of Alistair's meals). He had mixed feelings about the Warden's reunion. In a way, it pleased him that Eriana seemed much happier now that Alistair had ended his vow of angst-driven silence, but that also meant that she now spent most of her time with Alistair, not him. Zevran hated to admit it to himself, but he had come to enjoy the time he spent with the younger elf. She was beautiful and engaging and made the trek across this drab country almost enjoyable. Zevran sighed, still pretending to be focused on his weapons. What was he doing, allowing himself to feel compassion for a mark? But was he fooling himself to still think of her as a mark? Had she not become something more in the past few weeks? He had found himself opening up to her more than he had ever opened up to anyone before, and he was drawn to her in a way that he had only felt once before. Was she becoming a friend? Was he hoping for something more? He quickly pushed that thought from his mind. It was over now, though; she had her knight back. What would she ever want with a whoreson like him? The templar hero was more worthy of her affections. Zevran almost began to laugh at himself for being so morose; it was not like him to give up so easily, and the knight had not closed the deal just yet. Perhaps there was still time for him.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he missed the subtle turn of the conversation across the fire until Alistair's stumbling words caught his ear. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing? Is that bumbling idiot actually turning her down? Sure enough, Alistair began stammering about the waiting till right time, the first time should be special, respecting her, and some other nonsense. Zevran couldn't help but glance at Eriana over his shoulder; she looked disappointed and slightly embarrassed. She said something terribly understanding about his innocence being cute and endearing before she got up, kissed him on the forehead, and disappeared into her tent. Zevran couldn't contain himself any longer.

"You are an absolute idiot; I hope you realize that," he said, not bothering to look up from his daggers.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Alistair stammered, looking flushed and embarrassed.

"Only this, when an exquisite creature such as she offers you her company for the night, you do not turn it down. Chances are she will only offer once, and you will be left to imagine what could have been."

"I don't…besides…you were listening?"

Zevran laughed, finally looking over at Alistair, "Well you weren't exactly secluded; carrying on such discussion in the middle of camp, you almost beg to be overheard."

"Well, not all of us have casual attitude about…well, you know. To some of us, there's more to life."

"Or perhaps your sheltered life has simply led to a lack of knowledge in that area and has left you doubting your ability to perform. I could give you a few pointers you know; make it a truly memorable moment. I am quite skilled in that particular field, you know."

"Andraste's flaming sword, I'm not listening to this," Alistair stammered, storming across the camp.

"Perhaps there were some positives to the Wardens being back together after all," Zevran thought to himself, laughing to himself as he finished with his weapons. Torturing Alistair was going to be fun.

* * *

Eriana sat her opulent guest room in Redcliff castle the next evening, silently staring out the window. Today should have been a good day for her, a day of rejoicing. She had returned with the Ashes of Andraste and they had successfully revived the Arl; he had been reunited with his wife and had accepted the news of his son's death with relative understanding, not blaming her for what she was forced to do. Now she had a foothold in the Fereldan nobility and had procured a valuable ally in her fight against the Blight. But it had come with a great personal cost. In a few short moments, she had lost the thing that she had come to value most; she had lost Alistair.

Eriana had never really allowed Alistair's parentage to bother her. So what if he was Marick's son? The nobility would never take him seriously, and he had been told his entire life that he would never be king. His taking the throne was simply something that never seemed feasible. She remembered joking with him, calling him my Prince in a teasing way; now those words felt like poison on her lips. Just when she finally got him back, just when things were finally starting to go right, just when she was finally getting over her issues with his race, he was lost to her, now more than ever. She kept replaying the conversation with Eamon over in her head. He was talking about strategies to defeat Logahin when he said the words that had broken her heart.

"We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen," Eriana knew what was coming. She didn't even hear Teagan mention Alistair; she knew in her heart what was coming.

"You intend to put Alistair forward as king," she said, trying not to very to keep her voice steady and not to betray her true feelings.

"Yes, he is the last of the Theirin bloodline, the only one with a claim that does not seem opportunistic and power hungry. His claim to the throne would seem more legitimate than Teagan's or mine. It may be the only way to avoid civil war."

Alistair began to protest, looking desperately at Eriana for help, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of Eamon, her mind racing. She barely heard Eamon's plans to call for a Landsmeet where they would place Alistair forward as the rightful king. Then she realized that everyone was looking at her, and Zevran gave her a slight nudge. They wanted her opinion, why? She was just an elf; she had no part in the play of nobles and kings. But she was also a Grey Warden, the leader of the Grey Wardens as they were. Civil war would only leave them weak, unable to fight their true enemy.

"It seems we have no other choice," she managed to say. "Call the Landsmeet and declare Alistair the king."

As they began to leave the main hall, Eamon pulled Eriana into a side room. "You do understand don't you? If Alistair becomes King, and I truly think he will, that comes certain responsibilities. Now, it didn't escape my notice that he differed to you on the decisions, and I have known him long enough to read him quite well. If we are going to make him king, there must be nothing that gives the nobility reason to doubt him; nothing that gives them reason to question his priorities. I know that among the Grey Wardens, race is an unimportant factor; sadly, that is not the case amongst the nobility. Deferring to you concerning Warden matters is well and good, but it cannot appear that he is relying heavily on you. It cannot be obvious how close you are. He is his father's son, in more ways than you know, and I just want to make sure that he doesn't make a mistake that costs him everything."

Eriana nodded, "Of course, your Grace." The message was clear. I see what's going on; it needs to stop if he is to be king. But Eamon needn't say anything. Eriana had been an elf her whole life; she knew what it meant to be an elf in Fereldan. She had no illusions of her stature; it just hurt to have it pointed out to her once again. Alistair may see her as an equal, but to everyone else, she was just a low-class citizen, a subservient member of society. If he became the King, where would that leave her? She had no illusions of becoming his queen; that was simply impossible. But he would need a queen, and she would be an inconvenience, a hindrance for him a threat to whoever she may be. Her head knew the truth that simply broke her heart; when the time came, he would be forced to put her aside. Well, she refused to simply be put aside, not when she could still do something about it. She needed a drink.

Zevran found her a few hours later, sitting on the battlements of the castle wall, two empty bottles of Antivan ale at her feet and a half-empty bottle in her hand. He and Leliana had been secretly scouring the castle in search of her. He had been present, in the shadows of course, during her private conversation with Eamon, and he had followed her back to her room where he had hoped she would remain. Then Alistair came to talk to her, and after a short conversation, she fled from the room and disappeared into the shadows, escaping even Zevran's keen eye.

He approached and cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence. She turned to look at him, but her eyes never quite focused on him, "Hey, Zev," she managed to say, her words slurring together. "I was just looking at the lake. Lake Calenhad. Why did they have to name it that? Of all things for me to look at, it had to be something named Calenhad."

Zevran knelt beside her, "And what's wrong with the name Calenhad; seems a nice enough name to me."

"Calenhad the Great!" she shouted, hoisting her bottle of ale in the air, "first King of Fereldan; the fountain spewing Theirin blood. His great great something grandfather," she slurred then took another drink from the bottle in her hand.

"Ah, so Alistair's new position as heir apparent is the cause for this revelry, then?"

"Duh!" she rolled her eyes at him, and Zevran smiled, "I mean I knew, I knew he was Maric's son, but so what. Who would want Alistair as their king? He's a Warden for Maker's sake. He was my Warden," she lamented, putting her head on Zevran's shoulder. "And now he's my King; it's just not fair."

Zevran put an arm around her, "What's the problem with that, my dear? It seems being close to the king could have its advantages, no?"

Eriana laughed, "But I'm just an elf. That's all people see when they look at me; a short woman with pointy ears." He hated that term just an elf; any fool could see she was far more than just anything. "I hate my ears," she said glumly.

"Oh, come now, your ears are lovely, as are you."

"No, no, no, look at them; they're so short they're barely elven. It's like I'm a short human with barely pointed ears," she protested, then she reached up and stroked Zevran's ears making him shiver at her touch. "Now your ears, Zevran, your ears are beautiful, long and slender. A true work of art. I just want to bite them," she said before dropping her head back on his shoulder.

Zevran tried hard not to laugh, "Perhaps that could be arranged, but I believe you sell yourself too short. You exude the very essence of elven beauty, my Warden," he said, lightly brushing her blond hair back off her face. "You make men melt at the very sight of you, and your ears are perfectly biteable as well."

They sat in silence for a while before Eriana spoke again, "If he does become king, where would that leave me? He would get married to some human noble woman and would cast me aside."

Zevran shook his head, "No, I don't think that would be the case. It would be very had to let someone like you go. I would wager that he would try to find a way to keep you around; he does care for you, that much is certain."

"But what would that make me? The castle's dirty little secret, an elven mistress, how cliché. I'd be nothing more than his porcupine," she said with authority, "and I don't want to be a porcupine. My mother didn't raise me to be a porcupine."

"A concubine?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I have more dignity than that," she said as she let out a rather undignified belch and finished the last of her ale. "I need some more ale," she said, struggling to stand up.

Zevran helped her to her feet. Never before had she been so vulnerable around him, so completely dependent on him. He could easily kill her right now, and play it off easily as an accident. Not even Leliana would suspect. She was drunk, she went up on the battlements and fell, a great tragedy for all. Alistair would probably even keep him around, and he could finish the job later, surely killing the future king would earn him a bonus. He watched as she walked on uneasy feet to the edge of the battlements to retrieve her bottles. Suddenly, she pitched forward ever so slightly and would have tumbled over the edge of the wall had Zevran not grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. She promptly collapsed in his arms, snoring softly. He sighed, no he was not going to kill her. Not tonight, probably not ever. How do you kill someone so special? He found her too engaging to simply kill, and he truly wanted to know her better, to know her in every way. He gathered her in his arms and carried her down into the castle. This was so unlike him. Surely he was feeling this way because he hadn't bedded her yet, that had to be the reason for this strange change of heart.

* * *

Eriana woke up with a throbbing headache and the light pouring through her window didn't help her. Turning over with a moan, she was about to pull the blankets over her head when she realized that it was not her window; in fact, this wasn't the room she had escaped from last night. She shot up in the bed and looked around, trying desperately to recall what happened the night before. She remembered something about porcupines and biting ears, "Please tell me that was a dream," she mumbled to herself.

"Alas, it wasn't," she heard a smooth voice say, and she turned over and saw Zevran sitting in a chair in front of the empty fireplace. "It was a very interesting night, to say the least."

"Maker, please tell me I didn't really say that I wanted to bite your ears," she groaned. When Zevran laughed she buried her head in her pillow. "I didn't, I mean, we didn't, did I?"

"No, I'm afraid not. You were a bit far gone for that, and I prefer my companions a bit more lucid." Zevran said, handing her a glass of water. "I did think it best to bring you here since Alistair was pacing the corridor outside your quarters; seeing you in such as state may have been upsetting."

"And you didn't think stumbling out of your room the next morning would be equally upsetting?"

"Of course not, no one will ever know you were here; we will sneak you back into your room now that you have better reign of your facilities."

Eriana drank the water while Zevran sat down beside her on the bed. "Listen, Zev, about last night, thank you for taking care of me last night; it would have been bad if everyone saw me in that state. I didn't, um, didn't say anything too bad did I?"

"Not unless you count not wanting to be the King's porcupine and telling me I had beautiful ears, the rest of what you said was relatively harmless," he said with a slight chuckle. Then his tone turned sympathetic. "Is his becoming King truly that upsetting for you?"

She nodded, sadly. "Alistair would make a good King," and when Zevran raised an eyebrow at that, she amended, "he would learn to be a good King. He has it in him, and he's honorable, almost to a fault. He will feel compelled to do his duty in every way, and that would include breaking things off with me. I'm just afraid he'll hate himself for it."

"So what do you plan to do, drink yourself into oblivion and hope it goes away?"

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I really need to get back to my own room. Care to help me get there undetected?"

"Of course, my Warden. I am yours."


	14. Leliana 14

_Thank you to everyone who has added me to their alerts and to everyone who has reviewed. Let me know what you think. _

* * *

It had been three days since Eriana had disappeared in Redcliff Castle, and Leliana still didn't know what the elven woman planned to do about Alistair. They had talked for a long time about her options when she finally showed up the next morning, refusing to answer any questions as to her whereabouts the previous night. Leliana was concerned for her friend. She knew that Eriana cared for Alistair a great deal, more than she would have ever admitted to Leliana, but she also knew that she was a proud woman. Eriana Tabris was not the type to allow herself to be used, nor was she the type to allow others to see her weaknesses. She had been rather quiet since they left Redcliff on their way back into the Frostback Mountains. Leliana could tell things were starting to weigh on Eriana, but of course, she wouldn't talk about her feelings unless Leliana pushed. Leliana suggested that the two of them scout ahead, looking for a place to set up camp so that the two women could have some time alone to talk.

Once the women were alone, Leliana managed to get the elf to open up. "So, do you have any idea what you are planning to do?"

Eriana sighed, "I've got to end things with him, Lil; it's as simple as that. As much as I hate it, it's the only reasonable thing to do." She looked over at her friend, "I like him a lot, but…"

"Do you love him?"

"I don't think so; not yet at least. But I could love him; he's very loveable, you know?" Eriana said sadly. "The longer I put it off, though, the harder it will be for me to end it. I have to do it now, before it's too late."

"You don't think there's any way to work things out between you two?" Leliana asked.

"That's the problem. There's nothing wrong between us; ever since Haven, we've been getting along wonderfully. And that's what makes this hard. Most relationships end because your feelings for that person change; well, that's not the case with us. Our situation has changed, not our feelings. There is no way to work this out; we come from two different worlds and our lives are headed in two very different directions. We may be going the same way now, but our destination is so very different."

"Then why not enjoy what time you have together? With the Blight and the bounty on you two and everything else that seems to happen, there's no guarantee Eamon's plan will even work. You have happiness now in your grasp; why not make the most of it? Find love while you can."

"You're starting to sound like Zevran. That's kind of his philosophy, 'enjoy life, take your pleasures where you can.'" Eriana kicked at a rock in front of her. "I can't simply enjoy this because I've already lost so many things that made me happy in the moment, so many things that I loved," she said, looking at the ring on her left hand, "I've had my plans dashed and my dreams destroyed, and I'm not going to set myself up for another heartbreak."

"You were willing to risk it before with Alistair," Leliana pointed out.

"Yes, but that was before." Eriana shook her head, "Look, whenever you put yourself out there, there is always a chance that you will be hurt, right." Leliana nodded. "So it's a risk every time you let someone close to your heart, but you do it because there is hope for a happy ending. Well, there is no hope for a happy ending here, Leliana, none. Follow our relationship to the logical end; even if nothing happens to us and everything works out perfectly, he is on the throne and I am in command of the Wardens. He is married to a noble woman who will bear his heirs because you know that's the first job of a king, to produce more kings. I can't give him that noble heir; I'm just an elf. The nobility would never accept a child of mine and you know that."

Leliana was quiet for a while; she was right of course. The relationship with Alistair had no future. Ending things with him now would save both of them a lot of heartbreak. "I understand where you're coming from. I suppose I would try to protect my heart if I was in your shoes as well. So what are you going to do?"

"I guess I need to end it with him, today. I need to do it today. No need to put it off any longer, it will only make it harder. He's just so sensitive; I mean, you saw him in Lothering. I don't want him going back to that Alistair."

"What Alistair is that?"

"The moping broody Alistair," Eriana said. "The one who doesn't have any passion, who blames himself and sulks about his bad luck in life. That Alistair is very hard to handle. I don't want him resenting me or his heritage either, so I can't just say 'Hey, Al, you're going to be King so I'm dumping you.' I'm afraid he will come to resent his throne or even try to renounce it, and we need him to be the King."

"So you need a reason to end things, then? What about Zevran?" Leliana suggested.

"Zevran? What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Zev are close, maybe if there was something between you two Alistair would…"

"No," Eriana said shortly. "I refuse to use Zevran like that. He is a good friend and I won't pretend that there is something between us just so Alistair will hate him. We don't need that kind of tension between them. I'll figure something out."

Leliana smiled, "It was just a thought, and you may not even be using him. It may actually help get your mind off Alistair too, no? He is a handsome and alluring elf is he not? And there is a connection between you two, don't even try to deny it; I've seen the way he looks at you."

"He looks that way at anything that walks upright; you realize that don't you. And talk about setting myself up for heartbreak."

"You said yourself that there were no assurances in love," she ignored Eriana's apprising look, "I'm just saying, should you need an excuse, I'm sure Zevran would provide one for you, and he could provide a pleasant distraction at the same time."

Eriana sighed, "I'm sure he would be a very pleasant distraction, but I've been distracted plenty of times in my life. I kind of hoped that the next time I was with someone, it would be someone I truly cared about. I've never been with someone where it was just about pleasure or lust. With Zevran, I would be afraid that that was all there was, attraction and physical pleasure." Eriana seemed like she was about to say more when she stopped abruptly.

Leliana noticed Eriana tense up. "What is it?"

"Darkspawn, I think. I haven't been able to sense them very well before," Eriana's eyes narrowed like she was concentrating on something, "but I've got this strange feeling." She put her hand to the side of her head. "It's like I'm being pulled toward something. We need to get back to the others. If I can sense them, then they might be able to sense me. Let's go."

The two women took off running back toward the rest of the party. As soon as the two women got within eye sight of their companions, they saw that Alistair was already armed, rushing toward them. "Did you sense them?" he asked and Eriana nodded. "A small party, maybe a dozen or so. They're headed this way and fast; we have about ten minutes."

"There's a grove just over that hill where we can set up a good defense," Eriana said, "They won't be able to flank us, and there are plenty of high places for the Morrigan and Leliana to attack."

They quickly made their way to the grove. Leliana and Morrigan found a good positon to attack from above while Zevran disappeared into the heavy brush lining the clearing. Sten and Alistair set up infront of Eriana and the dog. "Eriana and I will draw the bulk of the attack; they'll be coming for us because they will sense us," Alistair said. He glanced down at Eriana, "Stay behind us if you can and take out as many stragglers as you can. Ramoth, stay with her and make sure she can keep firing her arrows."

Sure enough, as soon as the darkspawn appeared, they headed straight for the two Wardens in the center. Leliana rained down arrows on the approaching monsters while Morrigan bombarded them with spells. Eriana stood behind the two melee fighters, taking out darkspawn on the fringe with Sten and Alistair engaged the main bulk of enemies. Zevran moved through the shadows, taking out stragglers before they could break away and attack the ranged attackers. They were quick and efficient, everyone working in perfect synchronicity. The fight was over in a matter of minutes. Leliana sighed as she and Morrigan moved to join the rest of the group. She hoped that the fight with the darkspawn would be the only confrontation the two Wardens had to face that day, but in her gut, she was afraid that they would be dealing with much worse before the day was through.

* * *

Zevran and Leliana sat at the fire, quietly mending their armor and washing off any darkspawn residue; they were also subtly watching the two Wardens talking across camp. Eriana was smart enough to take Alistair far enough away from the group so that their discussion couldn't be overheard, not that Leliana wanted to hear it, watching it would be hard enough. It was Zevran who finally broke the silence.

"So she's ending it with the templar then?" he asked, not taking his eyes of the duo.

"That's what she said this afternoon. She seemed pretty certain about it."

"Ten silvers say she doesn't do it," he said, glancing over at the red-headed bard.

Leliana rolled her eyes. This was going to be hard enough on Eriana, and she hoped Zevran didn't take it this lightly with her. "Are you sure you want to bet against her? When she makes up her mind about something, she is usually dead set on doing it."

"Oh, I have no doubt she'll do it eventually. My money says that she's won't do it today; it's too soon." He glanced over at Leliana, "If you disagree, put your silver where you're certain."

"Deal, she's resolved; this is going to be easy coinage," said Leliana, turning her attention back to Alistair and Eriana.

Alistair was doing most of the talking, and Eriana had her back to the rogues, so they couldn't see her reactions, but Alistair's face didn't look that pained. Leliana cringed a bit when Zevran pointed that out. "I don't think that's the face of a man being dumped; don't you agree my dear?" He was right, of course; Alistair didn't look upset at all. In fact, he looked like a fawning puppy dog as he looked down at Eriana, a big goofy grin on his face. They could tell Eriana was fidgeting with her ring, something she always did when she was nervous or deep in thought. Alistair then pulled something out of his pack and handed it to her, but from their perspective, neither of them could tell what he had in his hands, only that she was staring at it intently. Leliana wondered when he had time to get her something. Then Alistair reached up and stroked the side of Eriana's face in a loving way before he leaned in to kiss her, his hands moving around her back to pull her close. Leliana groaned and handed a smug looking Zevran the coins from her purse. "Ha ha, never bet against me when it comes to women and romance," Zevran whispered in her ear as Alistair started to blush from his neck to his hairline. Clearly, things had not gone according to Eriana's plan, and she had a sheepish look on her face when she joined the other two rogues at the fire.

"Well?" Leliana said inquisitively, "what happened. From where we were sitting that didn't look like a break up."

Eriana hushed her and motioned for them to join her in her tent. Once they were all safely inside, she started to explain, "I just couldn't do it. He started talking, and it was so sweet, ugh, I couldn't bring myself to tell him." She reached in her pack and pulled out a single red rose and handed it to Leliana. "Then he gave me this."

"You couldn't break up with him because he gave you one rose?" Leliana asked, confused.

"Here, I have some deathroot in my pouch; if I gave it to you would you join me in my tent?" Zevran asked. "What?" he said when the two women glared at him, "At least deathroot is more useful than a flower. It could numb your tongue to his terrible cooking, no?"

"It wasn't just the flower; it was his whole sentiment behind it," Eriana said, snatching it back from Leliana. "He picked it outside of Lothering; he said that he was amazed something so beautiful could exist around such sorrow and ugliness. He said he picked it because he couldn't bear to leave it to be destroyed by the darkspawn." Leliana sighed while Zevran rolled his eyes. "Then he said that he was giving it to me because it reminded him of me, that he felt the same thing about me. He said that I was a rare and wonderful thing to find amid all this darkness. Zevran, don't laugh," she said, elbowing him, "it wasn't a line. He was sincere, and it was surprisingly articulate."

"I know," said Zevran laughing, "I heard him practicing it on the dog while you two were away this afternoon. Please tell me he said the part about the steamy bits too?" Eriana nodded, and Zevran broke into another bout of laughter.

"Zevran, you are terrible," Leliana slapped his arm as she scolded him. "You knew he what he was going to do; no wonder you made that bet."

"Bet? What are you talking about?"

Leliana looked a bit embarrassed as she explained the terms of the bet she and Zevran had made earlier that evening. Luckily Eriana simply laughed and rolled her eyes at her friends. "Seriously though, how was I supposed to end things with him after that? It broke my heart to stand there and listen to it." When neither of them said anything, she said, "well thanks, you guys are a ton of help."

Leliana pulled Eriana into a hug, "Just give it some time, dear. An answer will present itself, just be careful not to lead him on any further."

"Remember when I swore my loyalty to you, I told you I could drive away unwanted suitors. Well, here is a chance for me to make good on my claim, no?" Leliana and Eriana rolled their eyes at Zevran.

"I'll figure something out, don't worry," said Eriana as she stared down at the rose in her lap. "I'll figure something out."


	15. Eriana 15

Eriana and Zevran had been sparing every evening since the party left Redcliff. Each night as the other members of their group went about their daily business, the two elves would face off against each other. Originally, Alistair had vehemently protested to this arrangement. When Eriana suggested it as they were preparing to leave the town, Alistair pulled her to the side and offered to train her himself. After she pointed out the fact that she didn't use a shield and that his strategy of slamming into things till they fell over weren't exactly an effective tactic for her, he begrudgingly relented and agreed that she should train with the assassin. For the first three days, Alistair sat and watched their practice sessions, wincing and grunting at each of Zevran's lewd innuendos, and he always whisked Eriana away as soon as the two elves were done, usually shooting Zevran a nasty look as they walked away. For Eriana, the tension between the two men was palpable, making it hard for her to concentrate, so for the sake of her own sanity, she asked Alistair to give them some distance when they spared. He still watched from a distance, afraid to leave Eriana alone for too long in the assassin's presence.

Once Alistair let them be, sparing because a truly enjoyable experience for Eriana. She began to look forward to the one on one time that she spent with Zevran each day, and Alistair's absence from their sessions brought about a noticeable change in Zevran's demeanor. He was still flirtatious, but his comments had lost the lewd tenor that had seemed to dominate their conversation. It didn't take Eriana long to realize that the crude comments were not intended for her at all; Zevran just enjoyed watching Alistair squirm when he said something inappropriate. Now that Alistair was gone, Eriana was beginning to see a different side of the suave Antivan. The crude and arrogant playboy disappeared when they fought, replaced by a focused and confident assassin, and Eriana could see exactly why the Cows were a thing to be feared. In fact, Eriana truly started to wonder how she was able to defeat Zevran when they first met. He moved with such deadly speed and precision when he fought that he easily disarmed her a few minutes into their first sparing match. More than once, Eriana found herself flat on her back with the smiling assassin crouched over her saying, "come, come, you can do better than that." And she did; she learned quickly, and by the end of the first week, their final practice session was consumed by as single bout, his twin blades clashing against her sword and dagger for at least a half an hour before Eriana finally landed a hit on Zevran. The two elves practically collapsed beside each other, sweaty and exhausted.

"Well, my dear, I am either a ridiculously awesome teacher, or you are a quick study," said Zevran as he finished the last of his water from his flagon. "Did your mother teach you to move the way that you do in a fight?"

Eriana nodded, "Why? Was I doing something wrong?"

"Not at all; in fact, most of what you are doing is very right. You move very much like a Crow; it's almost like you've had Crow training yourself. I was just curious as to where you learned to move that way."

"My mother taught me to fight like a Crow? How so?"

Zevran shrugged, "It's more of a style, a way of orienting yourself to your target and maneuvering behind to find and exploit vulnerable points. The basics that they teach us early on in our training." He glanced over at her, "You said that you doubted that your mother was Fereldan, no? She did teach you Antivan as well. Perhaps she was a Crow herself."

Eriana seemed to shudder at the thought, "That would explain things, that's true, but it leaves more questions than answers. You told me that the Crows don't simply let you leave the order, right?" Zevran nodded. "Well, how did she come to live in Denerim then? It's not like she could just run away; they'd find her. You said that they were very good at that." She ran her fingers though her hair, pushing it out of her face before she tied it up into a loose ponytail. "There are just so many things I wish I could ask her now. I was just so naïve at fourteen; I didn't realize how different she truly was." She was about to say more when she noticed Alistair walking toward them. She glanced at Zevran and nodded toward Alistair. "We'll talk more later," she said, getting to her feet. "You have fist watch tonight right?" Zevran nodded, "I'll see you then." And with that, she walked away toward Alistair.

* * *

Alistair spent the entire evening by the campfire with Eriana. She realized that she was being very unfair to him, that she simply needed to end things with him, to make a clean break. It was just so hard to actually do it. She had tried to distance herself from him over the past week, spending more time with the other members of the party, but that only made him more attentive when they were together. The fact that Alistair had been unendingly patient with her increasingly distant attitude made her feel even worse. But Alistair hadn't questioned anything; he remained sweet, affectionate, and supportive in spite of everything.

As he got up to turn in for the night, Alistair looked down at her. "I know something is bothering you, and I can't pretend to know what it is," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Just know this, whatever it is, I'm here for you. We're in this together, till the end. Whenever you're ready to talk, we'll talk." With that, he gave her a light kiss on the forehead and disappeared into his tent.

Eriana slid off the fallen log that she had been sitting on and pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her head in her arms. She was ashamed of herself for letting this go on, ashamed of her own weakness; she couldn't afford to be weak, not now, not when so much was riding on her. Deep in her thoughts, she didn't realize Zevran approached until she felt his warm, rough hands on her shoulders. She sighed and leaned back against his legs as he sat on down on the log behind her.

"You must think me terribly weak, Zev," she said, as he began to work on the tension in her shoulders, gently massaging out the day's tension.

"Why would you think that, my dear?"

"I can't bring myself to hurt him; it is just so hard. I know what I must do; the arrow is notched, the bow is drawn, but I can't make myself release it." She glanced over her shoulder at Alistair's tent, "He's lost so much in the past few months, and he's so pitiful when he's hurt. I can't bear to add to that. You don't think poorly of me, do you?"

"Of course not, and I don't think you are weak. You are among the strongest people that I have ever met; you have taken on a great burden for one so young without complaint and have done what you believe to be right without fail. This is the first time I have ever seen you falter. And yet, you do it out of compassion for one you care for, not for yourself." He ran his fingers through her long blond hair before returning his attention to the tense muscles at her neck. "You have great compassion, and that does not make you weak. It could be seen as a weakness, yes, but do we not all have such weaknesses? No one is perfect; we are all afforded at least one flaw or two. But your weakness makes you the extraordinary woman that you are, and I for one am grateful for it; after all, your compassion did save my life, no?"

"I guess," she said, not at all convinced.

"Your compassion makes you who you are, but you don't let it control you or override your better judgment. If I were to wager a guess, I would say that your empathy is a byproduct of your upbringing. Being raised in the ailenage forces you to consider the plight of others; a society in such a condition would fall apart without such attitudes, yes? You live with the same people your entire life, so it would not be wise to simply dismiss their pain without a second thought. Life is quite different among those of us who are not so tightly bound to each other; we can afford to shut out the pain of others."

Eriana was quiet for a moment, considering what Zevran said. He was the only case where her sympathy overrode her common sense. Allowing him to live was a dangerous decision for her, but it was one she did not regret. It was nice to have another elf around; after living her entire life in the company of elves, being around so many humans had been unnerving for her, though she would never had admitted it. Zevran's presence had become a great source of comfort for her, especially as the two of them had grown closer. Perhaps he was right; living in the alienage had forced her to be compassionate in many ways. She found herself wondering how different life could have been for her had she been born elsewhere.

"Is it hard, Zev; being a Crow, I mean?" she asked, turning to look up at him. "And I don't mean the killing people; I know your feelings about that. I mean, is it hard to go through life without that kind of closeness?"

"For me, no, not exactly, but I did begin my training very young. I was only six when the Crows bought me from the whores, and since then, I have been taught to forego feelings of love and affection. I find pleasures where they can be had, and that's all I expect from life. It would be a very hard life for someone such as you, someone who cares so much about those around her."

"Sometimes I wish for that. I wish for a life where I don't care so much; then it wouldn't hurt so much to lose them. I feel like my life thus far has been consumed by loss, the loss of my mother, my brother, my home; and I feel every one of those losses. Sometimes I wish I could shut it out, numb myself to it."

Zevran slipped off the log and onto the ground behind her, putting his arms around her. "No, you don't wish that," he whispered into her ear. He pulled out a golden coin and placed it in her hand, "tell me, what do you see here?"

"It's a coin," she said, unsure where he was going with this.

"No, look at the coin. What do you see?"

She held the coin up in front of her. It was Antivan, no doubt about that. One side of the coin had an image of some kind of flower that she did not recognize. Turning it over in her hand, she noticed the second side had a man's picture stamped into it, but it scratched up so badly that she couldn't make out the man's features. "One side is beautiful while the other side is scarred and damaged. I don't understand," she said, handing it back to him.

Zevran placed the coin, scarred side up, in the palm of her hand and ran his thumb around the edges of it as he cradled her hand. "This side has been damaged; it has endured great hardship that has permanently scarred it, changed it in much the way the hardships in your life have changed you. You have endured much hurt and felt much pain in your life, and that, in part, has made you who you are. When you care about people in your life, you inevitability suffer the pain of loss." Then he turned the coin over in her hand so she could see the other side. "But with that loss comes so much more. You forget that there is another side to the pain, there is the love, the joy. You wouldn't feel the loss if you didn't have something worth losing, no?" He closed her hand around the coin and pulled her tightly to his chest. "I have heard you talk about your memories of your family, and I know that you wouldn't trade them for the world. You once asked me if I had ever known joy in my life; I have not, not in the way you have. To be a Crow, I gave up those kinds of feelings so that I could be a more efficient killer, but you, you have experienced love and joy the likes of which I have never and will never know. I ask you this, would you sacrifice those moments to be rid of the pain because you cannot have one without the other."

She thought about the ailenage for a moment, remembering the smell of Shianni's cookies, the songs they sang around the fires during Winter Solstice, the sound of her brother's laughter. Her eyes began to tear up, but she refused to cry. Of course she would not trade those moments for anything, they were precious to her even if they were bitter sweet at times. "You're right," she said, "I wouldn't trade them for all of Thedas." She sighed, "But I could still do without the hurting. I sometimes wish I was born anywhere but in an alienage. Perhaps my life would have been easier."

"There is pain everywhere, mia cara. It is a shame, though, that you were born somewhere where you were so underappreciated. The fools in Denerim had no idea the precious jewel that resided in their presence. Any civilized nation would have recognized your potential immediately. Had you been born in Orlais, for instance, you would have no doubt been selected to train as a bard, a deadly seductress and spy, moving fluidly through the grandest courts in the land enlisted to do the bidding of kings and emperors. And should you have been born in Antiva, the Crows would have most definitely recruited you. Your marks would fall at your feet before they ever met your daggers." Duncan was very smart when he recruited you," he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

Eriana laughed quietly, "Right, and why would that be exactly?"

"He saw that the true potential in you was wasted scraping together a living in the back streets of Denerim. Even being raised in such meager surroundings, you managed to rise above your state, and yet you still sell yourself short. Don't doubt yourself, my Warden."

As Eriana thought about what he was saying, she sank back into Zevran's chest; being there, in his arms felt like home. His arms around here were strong, but not overpowering like Alistair's could be. She liked the way her head felt on his chest; it wasn't so broad that she felt lost against it, but she fit against it perfectly. His words were comforting to her, but not trite or so affectionate that they seemed insincere. She took a deep breath, taking in his sent, leather and spices.

As she was lost in her thoughts, he continued to speak, softly in her ear. "You seem to forget that you possess the very qualities that make men go weak at the very sight of you; even those of us who have worked to sill ourselves against such influences," he said as he began to kiss her neck, just beneath her ear. Eriana felt her heart rate begin to quicken, her breath begin to still as he moved slowly down her neck to her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire behind wherever his lips touched. All thoughts of Alistair were banished from her mind as her mind and body focused on the Antivan who held her in his arms. She arched her back instinctively drawing herself even closer to him, cocking her head so that he could have better access to her neck and shoulder as his arms tightened around her waist. She closed her eyes, allowing her hand to snake up into his hair as he continued his ministrations on her neck. His lips were doing things that she never imagined lips could do, and she found herself wondering what his lips tasted like. "You are an exquisite creature," he breathed into her ear as worked his way back up to the tip of her ear, and her entire body shuddered. She was about to turn around to return the kiss when she heard some clear their throat. Her eyes shot open to find Sten standing over them, a stern look on his face.

"I believe being on watch work best when one's eyes are open, Warden," he said before walking across camp. Eriana could feel her entire face redden as she turned to look up at the grinning Antivan behind her.

"I had my eyes open the whole time, though, granted I was not watching for bandits or darkspawn," he said as he winked then released his hold on her. Eriana was sure that she was red from her neck to her hairline. She tried to stand up, only to find that her legs had fallen asleep. She stumbled into Zevran's arms, and he grinned down at her again, "Coming back for more so soon? I am happy to oblige, of course."

"No doubt, but what would Sten think? He already doubts my abilities as a leader." Eriana smiled as she managed to steady herself. "We may have caused enough scandal for one night, though." She looked down at the gold coin that was still clutched in her hand, pain and joy, one coin with two sides. She glanced up at Zevran, realizing that he could be a source for both in her life. He and Alistair both had the potential for causing her great pain, but they could both bring her joy. A new question would haunt her sleep tonight, was she willing to risk it with Zevran? She started to hand Zevran the coin back, but he closed her hand back around it.

"Keep it, mia cara. Goodnight." And with that, he disappeared into his tent, leaving her more confused and with more questions than ever.

_

* * *

_

Thank you to all of you who have been reviewing. It's been nice to know that people are actually reading. Let me know what you think.


	16. Zevran 16

Zevran should have been happy to get to Orzammar. Since arriving in Fereldan, he had struggled to adjust to the cold, harsh climate of the barbaric nation, but nothing prepared him for the trek through the frozen forests of the Frostback Mountains. Even the new Antivan leather boots on his feet, failed to keep him warm. The morning after they shared watch, Eriana had surprised him with the beautiful pair of boots. Apparently, she had found the boots while they were in Haven, but didn't realize that they were Antivan till Leliana pointed it out. Eriana said that she had intended on giving them to him the previous evening, but according to her, she had been a bit distracted. They then spent the next five days trudging uphill through the snow on their way to the dwarven city, and needless to say Zevran was miserable. He tried to remind himself that it was, in fact, summer in Fereldan, and the trip would have been much worse any other time of the year. But it was little consolation to the freezing elf who was acclimated to a much warmer climate. He wasn't the only one, however, who was struggling with the cold. Eriana was having as hard a time with the frigid temperatures as he was, often appearing so wrapped up in cloaks and blankets that all you could see of her were her bright blue eyes peeking out from the folds of fabric. All things considered, the warm air of Orzammar should have been a welcome relief. But it wasn't.

Zevran never really thought that his Dalish heritage had much influence over him, but from the moment the heavy iron doors of Orzammar closed behind him, Zevran just felt wrong. It wasn't the fact that there were too many dark corners and crevices, Zevran was used to moving through such places with ease; nor was it the warm, dry air, Antivan air was much the same. Maybe it was the absence of natural light or the over-abundance of stone; he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that was bothering him, but he silently hoped that their stay underground would be a short one. Perhaps it was an elf thing because he wasn't the only one who seemed to feel that way. Eriana seemed to tense up as well when the huge metal doors closed behind them. The two elves hadn't really been alone since the last evening they kept watch together, the cold mountain weather wasn't exactly accommodating when it came to socializing, but he found that he was a bit more attuned to emotions and moods than he had ever been before. Perhaps this was because he was watching her much more intently now than before. He realized that there had been a change in the way she seemed to feel about him, so he was giving her time to work through her feelings and questions. Eriana was more than just another easy conquest for him. She had already proven to be much more than that, and the longer she held out, the more he found himself wanting her. She was proving to be quite irresistible, and the fact that she had withstood his charms for so long promised to make the moment when she finally succumbed to his advances positively sinful. But today, he was focused on his discomfort because he shared those particular feelings with her. He hoped to get out or Orzammar as quickly as possible, but it was painfully obvious that the problems in the dwarven city were no easy fix.

Like the rest of Fereldan, it seemed that Orzammar was in desperate need of a King, but the assembly was deadlocked, unable to decide between Prince Bhelen Aeducan and Lord Pyral Harrowmont. It also seemed that Orzammar held the Grey Wardens in very high esteem, and each would-be king scrambled to win the support of Eriana and Alistair because their endorsement may just be the key to turning the tide in the election. Eriana was not exactly happy about this.

"Do I have a sign on my back that says 'King Maker' or something?" she complained as they were leaving the Diamond Quarter. "I mean, really, how many kings do I have to crown to stop the Blight?"

"Just the two," Alistair said, "But if it's any consolation, I really don't want it." Eriana shot him a harsh glare, "okay, maybe not."

Eriana managed to arrange lodging for them in the Commons, and then she divided the group up to go gather information. Zevran found himself paired up with Morrigan, headed for Dust Town. Leliana and Alistair were assigned the Commons, while Sten and Eriana headed back into the Diamond Quarter. Before they broke up, Eriana pulled Zevran and Leliana aside for a moment.

"Look guys, I'm trusting your eyes and ears to see and hear more than the others. That's why I'm splitting us up. Find out all you can about these two men, what their policies are, their reputation. We'll meet back up in a few hours to hash out a plan." The two rogues nodded, and Zevran headed toward the slums of Dust Town.

* * *

After making the rounds in Dust Town, Zevran returned to their lodging, which was little more than a common room flanked by two bedrooms, and was surprised to find Eriana already there, deep in conversation with the Qunari.

"Please understand this, Sten, I wasn't making light of our situation because I don't care. I do, more than you realize, and I am dedicated to stopping the Blight. But sometimes it can be almost overwhelming, so I use humor to ease tension. It may seem like I'm not being serious, but in most cases, I'm just trying to keep my sanity."

"Your honesty is much appreciated, thank you for explaining Warden. I will be sure to discuss your motives with you before I challenge your leadership again," Sten said.

Eriana laughed, "And I will be sure to explain myself better to you. I also promise you this, Sten, when we go to recruit the mages, we will look for your sword," she said, patting him on the arm as he got up. Zevran watched as Eriana stretched out on the short couch with a sigh, rubbing her eyes and her temples. "Where's Morrigan?"

"She decided to research some herbal remedies at the Shaperate," he said as he crossed the room to sit with her, gently lifting her head and placing it in his lap. "Is your head hurting mia cara?"

Eriana nodded, "I've had this dull ache since we got here; I think it has something to do with being this close to the darkspawn in the deep roads. Or it could be all this stress is catching up with me," she said with a slight smile.

"Then let me help," he said as he started to massage her forehead. She sighed and closed her eyes, a peaceful, contented look crossing her face. "Did you and Sten work your differences out?"

She nodded, "He felt that my casual attitude meant I didn't care. It seems that the Qunari don't use humor to relieve stress. I think we understand each other now."

"So no more assassination attempts then?"

She looked up at him for a moment before closing her eyes again and snuggling closer to him, "Not from him at least."

Zevran looked down at her; she seemed so relaxed, at peace. He realized that moments like this were rare and special. Running his fingers through her hair, he savored it, feeling her close to him, listening to her quiet breathing as she began to doze off.

She was just beginning to fall asleep when Leliana opened the door to the common room. Leliana paused for a moment, giving Zevran a slightly puzzled look before she crossed the room. Eriana's eyes fluttered open and she grinned up at Zevran before she sat up, "Hey, you're back. Where's Alistair?"

"He went to scrounge up dinner for us, so what did you all find out?"

Together the three rogues discussed the two candidates for the throne. It seems that Bhelen was the third son of the late King, the last descendant of a long line of dwarven kings, but that didn't necessarily make him heir-apparent. It seems that the rulers or Orzammar appointed their successor, and King Endrin had apparently decided to appoint Harrowmont. Bhelen, it seems, tried to seize his father's throne, which lead to all the turmoil.

"So Harrowmont is the rightful king, then?" Eriana said, "But is he the best choice for us?"

Leliana looked up at her, "What do you mean? Does it matter who is better for us?"

Eriana nodded, "From what I've gathered, Harrowmont is a traditionalist. He dislikes working with surfacers like us and seems intent on keeping the casteless stuck in Dust Town. I also get the distinct feeling that he is a weak ruler; I'm afraid he'll be easily manipulated and swayed. Bhelen may seem like a tyrant, but he seems more willing to work with us after this is all over." Leliana started to protest, but Eriana cut her off, "Look, I'd rather not have to make this choice, but since I do, I'm going to choose the candidate that will be of the most help to us after the Blight. Bhelen seems willing to change things for the dwarves, so who are we to impede progress? Those casteless dwarves in Dust Town are worse off than any alienage elf would ever be, but he's willing to change things. I mean, he's even marrying a casteless woman. I think he is the better choice, don't you agree?"

Leliana shrugged, "If you think it's for the best, but he just seems evil somehow."

"I don't know if he's evil, per se," added Zevran, "he just does what is necessary, an admirable trait for a ruler, no? Especially one whose realm is in constant peril."

"Look, I'm not saying he's the most honest or moral, Maker knows he isn't. The Shaperate already confirmed the documents he wants me to deliver are forged. But he is a man who will get things done, and in the end, isn't that who we truly need on our side?"

The other two nodded, "Good, then I guess that means we're headed into the deep roads, then." Eriana got up and spread a map out on the table in front of them, and the three rogues gathered around the map, trying to decide their next course of action. The map Bhelen's assistant had given them was a bit older than the one Eriana had procured from one of the Shapers, so they were trying to plot their course to Aeducan Thaig in search of Lord Dace. As they were talking, Eriana felt something brush against her leg; looking down, she gave a shout of surprise and jumped back into Zevran. "What in the Maker's name is that?" she shrieked, pointing at the white hairless creature at her feet.

Leliana laughed, picking up the ugly thing, "It's my nug, Schmooples. Isn't he cute?" she said as she rubbed noses with the strange creature.

Eriana looked over at Zevran, "It looks like an inside out rabbit," she whispered to him, forcing him to stifle a chuckle. "Sure Lil, it's adorable. Why don't you put him in our room so Ramoth doesn't get a hold of, um, Schmooples." After Leliana disappeared into the side room, Eriana shook her head, "That has to be the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Didn't we eat some of those nug things for lunch?" She shuddered and sat down at the table to study the map a bit more. Zevran stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder, casually massaging her neck as they discussed their strategy for going after Dace.

"You carry too much tension in your neck my dear," he said smoothly, continuing his ministrations on her neck, "I could really work out the kinks, give you a genuine Antivan massage. I guarantee you would forget all about your headache."

Eriana made a soft chuckling sound, but never got a chance to respond because Zevran was suddenly pulled away from her. He found himself pinned against the rock wall, a gauntleted forearm cutting off his air way, looking into the face of a furious templar. Zevran could see fury radiating off Alistair in waves, "You get your dirty, Antivan hands off her," he spat at him, almost trembling in rage. Eriana had scrambled to her feet and was shouting at Alistair to let him go. She grabbed his free arm, trying to pull him away, but he slung her out of the way, sending her careening across the room headfirst into the stone table. The sound of her impact was sickening and seemed to stun Alistair because he released his hold on Zevran, allowing him to fall back to the floor, as he turned to stare at Eriana's crumpled form on the floor. This time Zevran didn't hesitate; he rushed to her side before Alistair had a chance to comprehend what he had done.

"Shhh, shhh, don't move just yet, mia cara," he said, gently stroking her head as he lifted a health potion to her lips. He glanced up at Leliana who had just appeared in the doorway. "Leliana, my dear, go and fetch Morrigan from the Shaperate, would you?" Leliana nodded and ran out of the door as Zevran turned his attention back to his Warden. Nothing looked broken, at least, but she did have a large welt forming on her head and her right eye was starting to swell and turn blue. Fury started to course through him. It took everything in him not to turn and run his daggers through the bowels of the silent man behind him.

"I swear, I didn't mean to. I didn't even realize she was there; I…"

"Alistair," Zevran said with as much calm as he could force into his voice, "if you value your life at all, I suggest you stop talking, now." His jaw was clinched, and his hands felt drawn to the daggers on his back, but he resisted, focusing on the blond woman who was starting to slowly come around. Focus on her and you won't kill her friend, he reminded himself. Lucky for all of them, Leliana returned quickly with Morrigan.

* * *

"So, can I ask you something," Alistair asked Zevran tentatively as the two men sat at Eriana's bedside. They had been sitting in an uncomfortable silence for the last hour or so, watching the elven woman sleep off her injuries. "What are you intentions with her?"

Zevran glared at him, "You speak of her as if she is not present. She right over there, you know, unconscious." He more or less spat the last word at him.

Alistair flinched a bit. "Don't dodge the question; I'm serious."

Normally, Zevran would relish a chance to torture Alistair in a conversation like this, but tonight, he simply wasn't in the mood. "Do I detect a bit of jealousy there?" he said, contempt filtering through his voice, "Feeling a bit territorial, are we?"

Alistair scoffed, "I'm just asking what your intentions are. You did try to kill us all, remember?"

Zevran turned back to the sleeping woman lightly stroking her arm, "And now I owe her a blood debt, as _she_ has spared my life. It has brought us," he said as he glanced up at Alistair, "closer together."

"Is that a smirk? Are you smirking at me?"

Zevran's voice was cold when he answered the templar, "I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking," more like glaring murderously at you. "No smirking, here, no."

"Well, just…watch yourself, then. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Good," thought Zevran, "because I plan to make sure that you don't like what you see."

* * *

_Thank you for all the kind reviews! Thanks for reading._


	17. Alistair and Eriana 17

Alistair spent the entire day pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the deep roads; in fact, he had spent every day for the past two weeks pacing a rut in the ground in front of the guards station. It had been almost three weeks since he had seen the sun and nearly two weeks since Eriana disappeared into the deep roads without him. Two weeks ago, he had stood there, his heart in his throat, watching her fade into the shadows with Morrigan, some dwarf, and that stupid Antivan at her side. They had spent their first week in the underground city running various errands for Prince Bhelen; then he asked them to venture into the darkest parts of the deep roads in search of Orzammar's lost paragon. A fool's errand, a hopeless quest, but one she had to accept in order to gain his support against the Blight.

Frustrated, Alistair sat down and ran his hand through his unusually messy hair before he rested his head in his hands, guilt still surging through him, remembering their disastrous first day in the city. He had been so furious when he saw Zevran touching her that he had snapped, and then he seriously hurt her. As if he hadn't hurt her enough in the past, but now he was throwing her across the room and giving her concussions. He had let his jealousy get the better of him, and all his discipline had crumbled. Then he stood there dumbly as Zevran ran to her side and tended to her with more tenderness than he thought Zevran was capable of. As much as he tried, he couldn't get the image of Zevran gently cradling Eriana out of his head. When she woke up the next morning, she was furious with him, but the worst part of the whole thing was that she wasn't angry at him for giving her a concussion. She was angry at him for lashing out at Zevran.

"I don't care if you don't trust him, Alistair," she had yelled at him. "I do! He is my friend, and I will not have you flinging my friends against the wall." He tried to apologize, to explain himself, but she wasn't in the mood to listen. "Look, we have too much to fight against to be bickering amongst ourselves. You two need to find a way to work together, now."

So, they spent the next week trying to work together as they ran the Prince's errands and fought off Harrowmont's supporters. They ventured into the deep roads, took out a cartel, and did various other small tasks, all in the name of the Prince. Then he had asked them to venture into the deep roads in search of Branka, the dwarven paragon who disappeared two years ago. Alistair had insisted that he accompany her on this mission, but she refused to allow it.

"Look, Alistair, this is going to be extremely dangerous, and there's probably a good chance that once we go in there, we won't be coming back. It's probably not the best idea for both of us to go back there. One of us has to stay, to continue our mission should the worst happen." She looked up at him, "I'm expendable; if I don't return…" As soon as those words left her mouth, Alistair wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "No, listen, if I don't return in a month, you have to go on without me. You will have to finish what we started."

Alistair's fingers lightly brushed her lips, "_You_ are not expendable. Fereldan needs you to be strong, to stop this Blight." He looked deep into her bright blue eyes. "I need you, and not just because you are an amazing leader and Warden. I need you because I love you, and I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you. Staying here, not knowing if you were okay, would be pure torture, worse than anything any darkspawn could do to me. Please, don't leave me."

Eriana lowered her head, unable to hold his gaze, and when she spoke, her voice was so weak, it was barely audible, "Alistair, I can't stay, and you can't go with me. It just wouldn't be smart for us both to go. Fereldan needs you; she needs a king. She doesn't need another elf, even one with tainted blood. Where would Fereldan be without you?"

He gently lifted her chin to look at her face again, "And where would I be without you?" She started to turn her face away, but for once, Alistair was quicker. He took her face in his hands and without a second thought, he began kissing her. She seemed hesitant at first, slow to respond to the touch of his lips, but after a few moments, he felt her arms move around his neck as she began to kiss him back. It was unlike any kiss they had ever shared before, more desperate and passionate than anything Alistair had ever experienced. Her mouth hungrily searched his as she pressed against him, her hands running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. Alistair moaned as he felt her body move against him; taking her by her narrow waist, he lifted her against him, all the while trailing kisses down her neck. He could feel her warm breath caressing his ear as he kissed along her collarbone. Then she whispered his name, and he was almost undone. Catching his own uneven breath and mustering all the Templar discipline he could, he broke away from her and set her on the ground. "Take me with you, please. Don't leave without me."

She leaned her head against his chest, her breathing still raggid, "I can't; one of us has to stay."

"Then you stay. At least I'd know you were safe," he said, running his hand up and down her arm.

"And risk your royal neck, no way. This is for the best; trust me."

Alistair was quiet for a moment, "Is this about him?"

He felt her tense up beneath his hands, but she didn't look up. "About who, Alistair?"

"Is this about Zevran? I know that there is something more between you two. Do you not trust me around him?"

Eriana swallowed and looked up at him, "No, Alistair, this isn't about Zevran. This is about you and the fact that there are only two of us in the whole country. Zevran has nothing to do with this; he is just my friend."

"No, Leliana is _just_ a friend. There is something more between you and Zevran, whether you realize it or not. Everyone can see it; why can't you?" Eriana looked away, and Alistair's stomach dropped. He dropped his arms and stepped back from her. "Do you have feelings for him? Well?"

Eriana started fiddling with her ring on her left hand, "Do you really want to have this conversation now?"

"No, I don't want to ever have his conversation, but it's getting harder to ignore the obvious truth. You love him, don't you?" Alistair asked. Eriana shook her head vehemently. "But you do have feelings for him."

"Maybe, I don't know," she said, crossing her arms. "This is all very confusing, Alistair." She reached out to take his hand, but he stepped back, just out of her reach. "Look, now's not the time to talk about this anyway; I have to go."

"With him." Alistair pointed out.

"Yes, with him. We'll talk about this when I get back, okay." And with that, she was gone, and Alistair was left to pace the streets or Orzammar, alone, waiting for him to bring her back.

* * *

The deep roads were quiet as Eriana stood alone in the middle of a giant bridge that stretched across a deep, dark canyon. Dim light filtered down around her, barely penetrating the darkness of the underground lair. A horde of thousands of darkspawn that stretched as far as the eye could see moved beneath her, leaving the darkness of the dwarven realm, headed to the light of the surface. She smiled, breathing deeply as she listened to the soft sounds of their armor as they passed beneath her. Their violence, their, hate, and their desire to kill filled her, called to her. She felt drawn to them as water is drawn by the moon; she desired to be close to them, to feel their anger consume her.

Her footsteps echoed around her as she began to move slowly off the bridge, singing quietly to herself a strange rhyme that seemed to repeat in her memory, "First day, we come and catch everyone. Second day, we beat them and eat some for meat." She sighed as she stepped over the dead body of a familiar red-headed woman dressed in torn and bloody Chantry robes. "So lovely, she would have made an excellent mother too," Eriana mused quietly to herself.

She moved on through the empty underground city, still singing faintly. "Third day, the men are gnawed on again. Fourth day, they wait and fear for their fate. Fifth day, we return and it's another girl's turn." Another familiar face laid on the ground, another woman, this one with raven hair, a gnawed staff laying beside her. At the corners of her consciousness, Eriana felt a familiar sensation, darkspawn pressing close. They whispered to her, "Join us, sister, join us."

She smiled and continued walking into the blackness, "Sixth day, her screams they hear in their dreams. Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth we spew." Eriana licked her lips as she glanced around. The darkspawn surrounded her, but made no effort to attack her or seize her. They merely followed, and she found their presence oddly comforting. They talked to her, whispered to her, and though she couldn't always comprehend the words, the tenor and meaning, she understood clearly. "Eight day, they hated as she was violated. Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin," she sang with a macabre laugh as she sat down against the cave wall.

As Eriana sat there, two men approached her, looking up at her with looks of love and adoration. The tall one wearing shining armor held out his hands and spoke up in a strong clear voice, "Join us sister; join us in the shadows were we stand, ready to destroy. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be denied. You shall not perish, for you have sacrificed yourself for our future, and one day the world will join you in the Blight."

The shorter man with long blond hair cocked his head as he looked up at her, his honey-colored eyes blazing. "Now does she feast," he crooned, "for she's become the beast."

Eriana reached for them, an unfamiliar hunger consuming her as she wrapped her tentacles lovingly around them. Slowly, she lifted them, ready to consume them. She paused for a moment looking down at them, "Now do I feast, as I've become the beast."

Then she heard a voice roaring in her ear, and suddenly, she was alone on the bridge again. Turning around, she saw a giant dragon hovering over her as a massive group of darkspawn descended on her, grabbing and pulling her away. "Leave me side and you will die, alone and forgotten; stay and you shall not perish but you will be remembered forever. Do your duty and give birth to my children." The pull of the taint was almost too alluring for her to resist. "Join us, Warden, and your death will not be in vain." She tried to scream, tried to run, tried to escape, but the sheer numbers were too overwhelming. She felt herself slowing being pulled away, deeper underground, and she began to scream.

She woke up scared and confused, trying desperately to catch her breath. Morrigan and Zevran were kneeling beside her trying to gently rouse her. Her hazy mind told her this was a good thing; it meant Morrigan was alive and she didn't eat Zevran. She was still gasping, and the hot, arid air burned her lungs with each desperate breath. Slowly, she became aware of the fact that Zevran had pulled her into his lap, her head resting against his chest as she fought to slow her breathing. Zevran's voice was purring in her ear, "Peace, mia cara, peace. I have you, my dear; you are safe. Just breathe, nice and slow." She tried to concentrate on his voice and her breathing. "That's right, cara, nice and slow. Breathe as I am, a long deep breath in, a slow breath out. That's my girl."

"Please," she whispered between breaths, "I need…outside…too hot."

She felt something cool and wet on her forehead as Zevran continued to comfort her. "Close your eyes, my dear, and focus on my breathing," he said as he held her against him. "Try to imagine we are leaving the gates of the city. Picture the clear, blue sky, no ceiling, no stone, just snow and sky and cool, crisp air. You step outside and look up into the clouds, nothing over your head, clean fresh air in your lungs."

"By the stone, will you be quiet; you're making me dizzy just thinking about it." Ogren mumbled, but Zevran ignored him.

As he spoke, he ran the wet rag over her face. "Feel the breeze on your face, cool and clean." Her breathing began to slow, her body relax. "Now look up and see the sun, feel its warmth on your face."

"No darkspawn?" she whispered.

"No darkspawn. You're safe now; just try to get some sleep."

"No," she said as she buried her head in Zevran's chest, "no, sleep. Not till we're out, away from those things. I can't handle any more nightmares." She looked up at him for a moment, "Will you stay with me? Please?"

Zevran lightly kissed her forehead as she seemed to settle into his arms, "Of course, dear Warden."

She sighed, relaxing in Zevran's comforting embrace. Eriana was completely exhausted; the two weeks they had spent in the deep roads had been grueling. The close proximity of the darkspawn had given her a constant headache, and she had been plagued by vivid nightmares that had gotten increasingly worse the deeper into the mines they traveled. The one she had that evening had been the worst so far, but then again, becoming a broodmother had been a reoccurring theme in her dreams since they had defeated one a few days ago. The memory of the broodmother haunted her waking moments as well as her dreams. That could very well be her fate one day. When her calling came and she was forced to enter the deep roads alone, she could become one of those things if the darkspawn managed to take her instead of killing her. The thought sent waves of nausea surging through her and made her feel dizzy all over again. She shivered involuntarily and felt Zevran's arms tighten around her, his lips on the top of her head. At least they were headed out of the claustrophobic and oppressive caves now. Maybe she would finally be able to get some sleep once the darkspawn and the stifling air of the caves were left behind. Zevran's presence had been her only source of comfort through this whole ordeal; she wasn't sure if she would have made it without him, especially in moments like this.

"Zev, thank you."

"Hum, thank you for what, Ana?" Zevran asked, looking down at her.

"For being here, for being you. I just don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Well, that's simple; you spared my life, so now I am eternally in your debt," he said stroking the hair that fell across her forehead.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you tried to kill me," then she glanced up at him and grinned, getting lost in the amber of his eyes. She reached up and played with one of tendrils of blond hair that framed his face. "But I'm still glad you failed."

He leaned down, his face so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, smell the leather of his armor, "As am I, Eriana. Deciding to kill you was the best mistake I ever made." He lightly stroked her face with his calloused hands, then he tilter her head up to his. His lips ghosted lightly over hers for a moment before he pulled her close for a deeper kiss. Eriana's head was spinning as her hands found their way into his long blond hair, her mouth open as his tongue lightly danced over hers. She savored the taste of his kiss, honey and spices. A heat seemed to grow in her stomach as one of his hands snaked down her back and rested on her hip, the other one cradled her neck. She couldn't help but notice how perfectly their bodies seemed to fit together, like they belonged together. In the dark of the deep roads, a new feeling began to grow in Eriana, a feeling as deep as the caverns themselves. Was she falling the him, for this man who once tried to kill her? She didn't know, and for a moment she didn't care. For a moment her world was only Zevran, the feel of his lips on hers, the strength of his arms around her, the smell of leather filling the air around her.

Slowly she pulled herself away, looking up at him. He stroked the side of her face, "Do you think you could get some sleep, mia cara?" When she shook her head, he amended, "You could sleep right here by me. I am a very light sleeper, a side effect of the job, so if you start to dream, I will wake you before it gets too bad, no?"

Eriana nodded, "That might work. Are you sure that you wouldn't mind?"

Zevran smiled and pulled her down onto his bedroll, "Of course not. Come, get some rest." Eriana settled in beside him, her head resting on his chest, listening to his breathing and the rhythmic beating of his heart. And for the first time in two weeks, Eriana managed to sleep, safely and comfortably in the arms of her assassin.

* * *

_Thank you for reading and reviewing. Your sweet comments really make my day!_


	18. Ramoth and Eriana 18

It's day twenty-three of Alistair's deep road vigil. It's been over three weeks since Eriana's party left Orzammar, and they should be back any day now. The dwarves who are guarding the entrance to the deep roads have long since stopped being annoyed by Alistair's presence; in fact, they all but ignore him anymore. But today is different. Today Alistair isn't alone; he is joined by an agitated mabari.

Ramoth looked up at the man in shinny armor, irritated by his irrational fear. "My master is alive," he tries to tell the knight, "I would know if she wasn't, and she's coming back. I can feel her. Can't you? Silly human. I thought you were close. If you were close, you would be able to sense her." Ramoth dislikes the human who teases him about feeding human flesh to mabari, and this knight makes his elf unhappy. Even a dog can feel that. The knight is not right for his elf; he makes her uneasy and angry too much. But right now, the knight cares for her and wants her to come back safely, so that makes Ramoth feel better. Ramoth is glad that his master is with the other elf, though, the one who smells like spices and leather; the spice elf will take care of his master. He didn't trust the spice elf at first because he tried to kill his elf; he used to watch the spice elf very carefully, even when his elf didn't. But that was a long time ago. Now his elf lights up and relaxes when the spice elf comes near; she feels happy, and that makes Ramoth happy. Plus, the spice elf always has pieces of dried meat for him, and that makes Ramoth very happy.

Ramoth yawns and stretches; he is ready to leave this place of steel and stone and shadow. He wants to run in the trees and chase rabbits. Nugs are no fun to chase; they don't even run. He isn't even allowed to eat the nug that sleeps in their den, the singing lady hit him on the nose when he tried to. He used to like the singing lady. The giant has taken him hunting a few times as they waited for master, but even he seems uneasy now and doesn't want to leave. So Ramoth has to stay and wait like a good dog.

Suddenly, a familiar smell hits him, and he barks happily. "My elf! My elf! She is coming; I smell her;" he looks up at Alistair, wagging his nub of a tail, "Do you smell her? She smells like darkspawn and spiders, but that is her smell. She is back." Alistair tries to hush the dog, but Ramoth bounces in a circle and takes off past the guards into the deep roads.

"Hey! Dumb dog, get back here." Alistair grumbles as he gets up to go after him. "Eriana will kill me if anything happens to that dog." Then, out of the shadows, the dog reappears bouncing happily in front of an exhausted looking party. Ogren was in the front followed by Morrigan; behind both of them were the two elves. The sight of Eriana stopped Alistair in his tracks. It's the moment he'd been waiting for for three weeks, but somehow he wasn't prepared for what he saw. She looked like she could fall over at any minute, and Zevran seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. She had also lost a lot of weight; her cheeks were gaunt, and her armor seemed to hang off her in places. There were dark circles under her eyes which looked duller than he had ever seen them. She was paler too than he remembered, but there was still a focus and determination in her step.

"Eriana? Are you okay? What happened?" he asked as he ran up to them.

"We found Branka, but she decided to stay in the deep roads with the Anvil of the Void. She did make a crown for the new king, though."

"No what happened to you? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Oh, that," she said waving her hand dismissively. "It's sodding impossible to sleep in the deep roads. Too many darkspawn nightmares. Oh, and we saw the archdemon, too, that was fun." She sighed wearily. "Come on, let's crown a king so we can get out of here," she said as she headed toward the entrance of the Diamond Quarter.

Ramoth turned and looked up at Alistair. "See, I knew she was okay, no reason to worry." Then he trotted off after them.

* * *

"Sleep, Blessed Andraste, how I missed sleep," Eriana thought to herself as she turned over in the small bed. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her limbs weary and heavy from a long sleep. Leliana was sitting at her bedside, reading a book called _The Rose of Orlais_. "Hey, Lil. How long was I out?" she asked when Leliana put the book down.

"Two days, I didn't have the heart to wake you; you seemed so exhausted." She got up and brought her a tray of food. "Eat, you look like you're about to waste away into nothing."

Eriana began to eat slowly, the food feeling heavy on her empty stomach. As she ate, she glanced around the room. It was a lot nicer than the rooms they had stayed out before they left for the deep roads. "Where are we?"

"The Royal Palace, at the insistence of the King, no less. He was quiet pleased that you chose to side with him, so he insisted that we reside here for the rest of our stay."

"Nice. I did say Bhelen's name didn't I?" Eriana glanced over at Leliana who nodded, laughing slightly. "Good, I was so exhausted, I don't remember exactly what happened. I'm actually surprised I didn't try to crown Raymoth or something like that." She continued to eat, telling Leliana about Branka, the deep roads and the Legion of the Dead. Leliana was particularly fascinated by the Legion.

"Oh, their story would make a fantastic ballad, so tragic and sacrificial," she gushed.

"Leliana, you think everything would make a fantastic ballad. I'm surprised you've not written a song about nugs yet," joked Eriana with a laugh.

"Who says I haven't. Oh nug thou creature of the underworld. Humble and tasty purveyor of joy. Our hallowed halls would be dark without thee!"

"Hey that's good; you should take that one to King Bhelen." Eriana managed to say after she stopped laughing. "So do you think I could get someone to heat up some water? I find myself in dire need of a bath."

Leliana jumped up, suddenly excited. "Oh that's the best part of the palace." She grabbed Eriana's arm and pulled her into the necessary. "Look," she said pointing to the empty tub. She pulled a lever beside the tub and steaming water poured from a crevice on the wall into the tub.

"Impressive dwarven architecture," said Eriana with nod. "That's a trick we could use on the surface." She intended on taking a quick bath, but the warm water seemed to melt the tension from her shoulders so well that she found herself relaxing, lounging in the water till Leliana came to see if she had drowned in the tub.

After her bath, Eriana let Leliana brush and braid her hair. It wasn't until her hair was almost completely dry that she realized that she hadn't seen anyone but Leliana since she woke up.

"So where is everyone else?"

"Morrigan is tending to some sick nobleman; Sten took the dog hunting; and your two young men are probably pacing outside the door, trying desperately not to tear each other's throats out."

Eriana raised an eyebrow, "They are what?"

"Trying not to kill each other, I'd imagine; I don't know," said Leliana. "I kicked both of them out after the first day. The last thing you needed to wake up to is that kind of tension, especially after everything you've been through here lately. They were both strutting around you, making manly shows of concern, each trying to outdo the other. It was quite amusing actually."

Eriana winced, feeling slightly sick, "Yeah, I've kind of made a mess of that; haven't I?"

Leliana shrugged, "That's what men do, they fuss and fight over women. Though I do think it has reached a critical point with both of them. Have you decided what you're going to do?"

Eriana buried her head in her hands, "I don't know, Lil. I like them both, a lot more than I realized. I've never had to deal with anything like this. I've never been in a real relationship before; I have no idea what to do. I just have a feeling that no matter what I do, I'm going to hurt one of their feelings."

"But if you do nothing, you hurt them both, yes?" Eriana nodded her head still in her hands. Leliana continued. "Well, let's look at them both objectively. What do you like about Alistair?"

Eriana leaned back against Leliana's legs and sighed. She started naming off attributes on her fingers, "Alistair. Well, let's see. Alistair is handsome, he's kind, noble, honorable, sweet, funny. I know he loves me, and he's loyal as a mabari."

"Negatives?"

"Negatives," Eriana thought for a second. "He's naïve and way too emotional. He has no idea the way the real world works. He's also, um," Eriana blushed for a second, "well, he's inexperienced in certain areas." Leliana chuckled. "He's a human; I'd be lying if I said I was over that completely. And then there's the main problem, there's no future with him. He's going to be the King."

"True, that still hasn't changed, and you still refuse to be a clandestine lover, no?" Eriana nodded. "Okay, now what about Zevran. Why do you like Zevran?"

Eriana sighed, "Zevan," she almost breathed his name, "Zevran is a hard man to resist. He's alluring, suave, funny, incredibly sexy, and ridiculously handsome. But that's just the surface stuff. There is an amazing depth to him that he tries to hide. He's perceptive and wise, and definitely experienced," she added with a laugh. "Plus, he's an elf. I'd be lying if I said that didn't matter, but it's definitely nice."

Leliana grinned, "Negatives?"

"Well, he's _experienced_, and very secretive. I'm not sure if he's genuinely interested in me, or I'd just be another of his many conquests. He could have me completely fooled, and I would have no idea."

"Do you think that there is a future with him?"

Eriana shrugged, "I don't know, maybe, but I don't know if he'd even want a future. And I guess that's the problem isn't it. I have two men who care about me; two men who I care a great deal for. But neither comes with the promise of a future."

"So don't make the decision based on your future. If neither can guarantee you a future, you have to ask yourself which one gives you what you want now? Do you want the sweet, dedicated Prince, or do you want the suave, sexy bad boy assassin?"

Who does she want? Which of these two men could give her what she wanted? What did she want anyway? She thought back to her past, before Duncan and the Wardens. What did she want then? She looked down at her left hand, at the simple silver ring that she never took off, a constant reminder of the future she wanted and lost. It wasn't just a husband that she had wanted, one who would give her a family, children, a stable future. That's what her father wanted for her, but deep-down she knew what she had wanted. She wanted someone who made her feel safe, someone who would protect her, someone who would stand between her and the world, someone who would be strong so she didn't always have to be, someone who would stand up for her, no matter not. That's what she wanted, what she needed, what she had lost once her mother died and she was forced into the world to provide for her family. No one had ever stood up for her until Nelaros. She quickly shoved that thought from her memory; it was best not to think about him now. Would either Zevran or Alistair take that kind of stand for her?

Eriana was about to respond where there was a knock on the door, and a smiling Antivan casually strolled into the room. "Ah, I see our Warden has finally returned from the realms of the fade, excellent. I was afraid we were going to have to send Morrigan in after her," he said with a grin. "Leliana, my dear, do you think you could spare our lovely Warden for a bit?"

Leliana glanced over at the elven woman who gave her a quick nod. "Alright, Zevran, please remember though, she's had a rough week, be careful with her."

"I'm right here, geez, and Zev was with me, remember? Plus, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, when I'm conscious at least." Eriana said with a smile as Leliana gave her a brush on the cheek and flitted out of the room.

"I thought you would want some fresh air, my dear; after all, it has been several weeks since you've seen the sun, and I distinctly remember you asking for fresh air while we were in those terrible caves, no?"

"Sunlight and fresh air would be great. Just let me get my armor on, and we'll head out," she said, getting to her feet.

Zevran raised an eyebrow, "Do you expect to be attacked between here and the surface?"

Eriana shrugged, "Better safe than sorry. I never expect to get attacked, yet it seems to happen to me with great frequency."

Zevran laughed, "True, true, but before you are fully armed up, I have a gift for you," he said, holding out a package for her. She sat down and unwrapped it to reveal a dark hooded cloak. "It is fur-lined, top of the line, I assure you. Perfect for our little trip down the mountain and any other trips where we find ourselves trudging through snow. This should keep you rather warm, I think," he said with a grin.

"Zevran," Eriana said, looking up at him, surprised. "I don't know what to say; this is so thoughtful, thank you."

"Think nothing of it, my dear. Elves such as we are not cut out for this harsh Fereldan weather; though it is a shame that you will now be hidden under such a large cloak. Perhaps I have made a mistake," he said with a sly grin.

Eriana stood up and gave him a quick hug before slipping the cloak over her narrow shoulders. Taking his arm, she said, "Now let's go find us some sun light."

The pair walked for a while in the cool air of the Frostback Mountains, Eriana reveling at the fact that she was out of the caves, back on the surface where she belonged. They walked through the vendors and surface dwarves who set up shop by the city's gates, quietly enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. They found a small grove of trees just on the edge of the make-shift market, just out of sight of those going about their business. Zevran sat down beside Eriana, his arm resting just slightly behind her.

"Zevran, why do I get the feeling that you didn't just bring me out here to look at the trees?" asked Eriana, breaking the comfortable silence between the two elves.

"Hum, yes, well I did want to talk to you about something. I have known for a time that you and Alistair are quite close. That was evident to me the first day joined your little group. I also know that you have had some concerns about the direction of your relationship for some time now. It has made me curious, however, as to the nature of your relationship."

Eriana sighed, "It's complicated. Yes, Alistair and I are quite close, but I am afraid that in and of itself may not be enough to justify a relationship. We are different, Alistair and I, in more ways than he would care to admit. It makes me wonder that if we weren't thrown together like we are right now, would he feel the same. Probably not. But you know this, why are you asking about it now?" She grinned up at him, "Are you jealous?"

Zevran laughed, "Jealous, not I no, But one does not need to be jealous to be leery of rushing headlong into…complicated situations. You and I have had some fun, and there is no doubt that more could be had, but if this thing between you and Alistair is leading somewhere…" Eriana tried to stop him, but he shushed her and continued, "No, my dear, you said over a month ago that you planned to end this thing with Alistair, and yet you have not been able to bring yourself to do it. You care for him, this much is certain, so perhaps there is a way to make your situation work. If that is the case, if your relationship with him is leading somewhere, I'll happily step aside. Complication avoided. Everyone's the happier, yes?"

Eriana was taken aback; was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Zevran was willing to step aside for Alistair's sake, surely not. That wasn't the Zevran she knew. After all that he had done to win her affections, he was offering to step down; it didn't make sense. What had changed? Had she done something wrong, hurt him in some way? Struggling to maintain her composure, she looked up at him. "If that's what you want."

"What I want? If it were so simple." Eriana sensed a hesitation, a pain in his voice for a moment, like he had for a moment let the cool mask of the assassin slip.

Zevran turned to face her, brushing the side of her face with the back of his hand. "I make no claims on you, nor would I dream of such. You are free to pursue your fancies as you desire, and I would have it no other way. I suspect Alistair, however, would not feel the same way. If there is something between you and I, to string him along would only hurt him deeply. Surely you know this is true."

"So you're doing this for Alistair's sake," she said, closing her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that were welling up inside of her. "Since when do you care about him?"

"I care nothing for Alistair. But he cares for you, deeply, and if you feel the same…You should do what makes you happiest."

There it was, the definitive moment that she needed. A moment of selflessness for her sake. She could barely see the pain hidden just beneath his coy smile, the fear of rejection that he tried so desperately to cover up. Zevran was willing to give up what he wanted to make her happy. Eriana reached up and traced the tattoos on his left cheek. "And what if it isn't Alistair that would make me happiest?"

"Oh," he said, glancing down at her, his eyes brightening a bit, "Ogren then?"

Eriana chuckled, "Oh yeah, I just love that red hair and those short legs." She moved her hand to the back of his neck and felt his arms move around her, drawing her close. She looked deep into his eyes for a moment, carefully reading his expression, "You Zevran," she said quietly, "You would make me very happy."

"Ah, mia cara, of that you can be sure," he said as she pulled her into a passionate kiss, his lips moving deftly over hers. From where they were sitting, she could still hear the bustle of business being conducted, but for a moment she didn't care. For the first time in months, she felt content, no, not content, she felt like she was on top of the world, soaring in the arms of her crow. Zevran's lips moved from her lips and began to travel down her jaw line to the base of her neck. Her hands worked their way into his hair as she began kissing his ear; she grinned to herself for a moment then gave the tip of his beautiful ear a sharp bite. Zevran jumped back for a moment, a bit startled.

"What can I say? I told you I wanted to bite your ears didn't I?," she said with a sly grin.

Zevran chuckled, "That you did my dear, that you did."

* * *

_I've always wanted to do something from the dog's POV. Even though Eriana's decided, our love triangle isn't quite over. Hope you enjoy it._


	19. Eriana 19

Eriana and her party stayed in Orzammar for nearly a week after Bhelen was crowned King. She hadn't truly planed on staying that long and was honestly eager to leave the dwarven city, but the trip into the deep roads had proven a more grueling than she realized. Morrigan and Leliana had made it quite clear that she needed more time to recover her strength before they continued on their journey. Eriana soon discovered, however, that Orzammar wasn't so bad after all. Once the King had been crowned, the city had calmed down considerably, making their final week there almost pleasant. It was nice to be able to walk through the commons or the Diamond Quarter without being on the lookout for angry Harrowmont supporters who wanted to pick a fight with therm. Eriana spent time each day doing some light sparring with Zevran or Leliana in the private training room Bhelen had given them in the Proving arena. Bhelen had also commissioned a special Proving to honor the Grey Wardens and celebrate his victory over Harrowmont. Zevran had used the competition as a training exercise. Sitting behind Eriana, he spend most of the matches pointing out the vulnerabilities of each of the fighters and giving her suggestions as to how she might counter each one. Eriana wasn't sure how helpful it was; she was too distracted by the feel of his breath on her ear to really listen to what he was saying.

As they were beginning to make their final preparations for leaving the city, Ogren ambled up to Eriana with a request.

"Hey Warden, I got a proposition for ya. I'm all but washed up down here; the whole of the warrior class thinks I'm some kind of joke, by the stone, I'm not even allowed to carry a weapon in the commons if I'm not with you. But you know sodding well I can handle a blade with the best of them. The way I figure, you could use another fighter in your quest against the Blight. Now that Branka's been found and all, I don't have much purpose down here anymore, and I think there are better ways to spend my considerable talents. What ya say?"

"I thought that once dwarfs left Orzamar, they weren't allowed to return, that they became surface dwarfs forever. Are you willing to do that?"

"He he he, if the ale's as easy to find up there as it is down here, I'll be right at home there, missy. There's not much else down here that I could do without."

Eriana smiled and clapped the dwarf on the back, "Then I say welcome aboard, Oghren. I'd love to have you join us."

"Now don't get all mushy on me, there, girly girl; it ain't a proposal"

Eriana laughed, "I'm heartbroken, truly. Well, we're leaving tomorrow, so you might want to stock up on the booze. We may not be in civilization for a while."

"Sounds good, Warden," Oghren said as he ambled off. "See ya in the morning."

All of their affairs were in order, supplies restocked, health restored. There was only one thing Eriana needed to take care of before they left, but she really wasn't looking forward to it. She needed to resolve things with Alistair, something that she had been dreading and putting off since Redcliff. She found him sitting in the Commons, watching lava fall into the pools beneath the Proving arena.

"Hey, Alistair," she said, walking up to him. "Do you have a minute? I think we need to talk."

"Yeah, I figured as much," he said with a sigh. "I can't say that I'm surprised. So you and Zevran, huh?"

Eriana sighed and nodded, "How'd you know?"

"Well, he's been more cocky than usually, and he's been strutting around here like he owns the place. I figured you had made up your mind. Lucky him," he said, not looking away from the lava streams.

"I am so sorry, Alistair. I didn't mean for this to happen," she tried to move in front of him, to get him to look at her, but he just stared straight ahead. "I mean, I didn't set out to fall for him. It just kind of happened."

After a long silence, Alistair finally looked at her. The obvious pain and disappointment in his face almost crumbled her will completely. "Why then; why him? What does he have that I don't; can you at least tell me that?"

"It's not so much what he has, it's what he is."

"An elf?" Alistair asked, bitterly.

Eriana sighed, "That's part of it, yes; I won't deny that. Being with Zevran is much less confusing; there's no apprehension when I'm with him. I don't feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions. You know about my past; you knew this would always be a problem with me."

"No apprehension?" Alistair almost shouted, "Maker's Breath, he tried to kill you. Have you already forgotten that? I haven't; in fact, I remember your first meeting perfectly well. He tried to give you two daggers by placing them in your heart, and you're not apprehensive around him?"

"No, I'm not. Look, Alistair, if Zevran still wanted to kill me, he would have; Andraste knows he's had ample opportunity to since then. But he hasn't."

"So now you trust him, then."

Eriana sighed, "Yes I do; I truly do. Deep down, he's a good man. He didn't want to kill us; he was just hired to."

Alistair gave a sharp angry bark of laughter, "Oh, yeah, well that makes me feel so much better."

"Please don't be bitter, Alistair," she put a hand on his armored arm, "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you. Please don't hate me."

Alistair started put an arm around her, but stopped and just turned away, unable to look at her, "I don't hate you, Eriana; I just wish that you had given us a chance, that's all. I could make you happy too."

Eriana looked down, "We are too different, Alistair; I think you would have realized that. We would have never been together at all if the circumstances had been any different; we're from two different worlds. If we weren't the only two Wardens left in Fereldan, you would have never given me a second look."

Alistair shook his head, "You're wrong. I have liked you since the moment I met you. The fact that you and I are together now was the luckiest thing that could have happened to me. Even if we had won at Ostagar and all this hadn't happened, I would have still been drawn to you."

Eriana shook her head, "We wouldn't have worked out even then. We're just too different."

"And you and Zevran aren't? He's a murder, Eriana, remember? He kills people for money. You're a better person than that."

"Am I, Alistair, really? The people who get transformed into golems may not think so, the former Arl of Denerim probably didn't think so, you didn't think so back at Redcliff, remember? Don't you remember how I became a Grey Warden? Duncan saved me from being hanged for murder." Eriana sighed.

"That's different," Alistair said, "You didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice, Alistair, and I chose what was best for me. Good is a relative term, you know, and I think Zevran is a good man."

"Well I hope for all our sakes that you are right about him and I am wrong." Alistair was quiet for a moment. "Is this really what you want?" Eriana nodded. "Fine then, go to him," Alistair said bitterly as he got up to walk away. He stopped for a moment, then turned back, "Just know, I'll be watching him because if he hurts you in any way…"

"Alistair."

"Fine, fine, just know I'll be there." Alistair sighed for a moment, looking at her, the sadness clearly showing on his handsome face, "he's a lucky man; I hope he realizes that," and with that, Alistair turned and walked away.

Eriana sat there, staring at the lava flow, unable to watch him walk away. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but it was better that he knew the truth. Part of here still cared deeply for the templar who defended her at Ostagar, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then; the world became much more complicated.

"If it's any consolation, I know just how lucky I am," Eriana heard a voice say, and looked up to see Zevran step out of the shadows. She should have known he would be there.

"How much of that did you hear?"

Zevran shrugged and came to stand behind her, gently rubbing her shoulders, "Only the very end, something about me being a good man, relatively speaking, of course."

"Of course."

They sat in silence for a moment, Zevran massaging her shoulders, Eriana watching the lava. "My Warden, how well versed are you in poetry, Antivan poetry to be precise?"

Eriana turned to look up at him, "Um, I guess I know a good poem when I hear one, why?"

Zevran laughed, "Well, you won't be hearing one now. It was recited to me, as I recall, by a rather wealthy target of mine. Let's see…"The symphony I see in thee; it whispers songs to me. Songs of hot breath on my neck; songs of grunts by my head; songs of hands on muscled back; songs of thee come to my bed."

Eriana looked up at him for a moment before she started laughing. "I take it you still killed her; I sure would have, for the poem if nothing else."

"Well of course I killed her," he said with a laugh, "but I slept with her first of course."

"Of course," she said, looking back at him. "And why exactly are you telling it to me?"

"Here I thought you might be cheered up by some naughty poetry. You look so…unhappy. Such an unflattering expression for such a lovely face."

"And dirty Antivan poetry was the best idea you had? Surely there is _something_ else you could do to cheer me up."

"You know, my dear, it has occurred to me that I was never able to give you that Antivan massage I offered you when we first arrived here, no?" Eriana smiled and shook her head. "No, well, if you are up for it, I would be glad to demonstrate my techniques for you tonight. You will not be disappointed, I assure you; such skills one learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse, you will find yourself quite relaxed and, shall I say, satisfied."

Eriana leaned back against Zevran's legs. "Now you see, that sounds better," she paused for a moment, "but since tonight seems to be the night for confessions, I have one for you." She turned to look up to him, suddenly a bit nervous. "I've, um, well, I've never actually…"

"Oh, ho, ho," Zevran laughed for a moment, "Am I to believe that my beautiful Warden has never been with a man."

Eriana shook her head, "Oh no, it's not that; believe me, there have been plenty. Probably not as many as, well, you, but I have experience." She took a deep breath, "The thing is all of my experience happened outside the ailenage if you catch my drift."

"I see, so you have never been with another elf. Is that what you're telling me?" Eriana nodded. Zevran tilted his head to the side for a moment, "Have any of your relationships been consensual, my dear?"

Eriana looked down, "A few. You have to understand; I worked around humans, drunk humans, for most of my adolescence. I learned early on that if I fought, I would get beaten or taken to the guards. Most of the men didn't want to hurt me; I guess they just found me attractive and just wanted to be with me. So I learned not to fight it; I would just end up getting hurt or even killed. And who would care, I was just an elf. I even ended up having a kind of relationship or two with some of the younger nobles when I got older, but no one in the ailenage knew about it." She turned around and looked up at Zevran, "I should have told you sooner, I know, and if that changes how you feel, I completely understand."

Before she could say anything else, Zevran caught her up in his arms and kissed her so passionately, her knees almost buckled beneath her. "Bellissima, who am I to judge one's past? You did what you had to in order to survive, no? However, I for one plan to show you what you have been missing by limiting yourself to human lovers; I'm afraid they simply don't know how to satisfy our wilder elven natures. Come, we may as well take advantage of these beds before we return to sleeping on the cold, hard ground, yes?"

Eriana grinned up at him, "I think I'm inclined to agree with you."

Eriana was surprised by how quickly the pair navigated the market district and made their way back to her quarters in the palace. As soon as Eriana closed the door behind her, Zevran's lips were on her, his hands moving up her side as he pressed her against the door. She felt him reach behind her, and a moment later, she heard the lock on the door click true and felt Zevran pull her across the room. His breath was hot on her ear as he skillfully undid the shoulder buckles of her breastplate, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor followed quickly by the leather skirt of her armor. Eriana's hands moved over Zevran's chest, feeling the strong muscles of his abdomen beneath her fingertips. This was the first time she had ever been this close to him without the barrier of their armor between them. She grabbed at the end of his tunic, trying to pull it over his head, but he slipped out of her grasp. Kissing her lightly on the nose, he shook his head. "No, no, my dear, massage first," he said as he lowered her to the bed.

She looked up at him, her head cocked to the side, "Fine, but I hardly think it's fair that you have on so much more clothing than I do," she laughed. Then she pulled him to the bed with her and began untying the laces at the top of his tunic. When Zevran pulled the shirt over his head, Eriana made a surprised sound. "I had no idea you had more tattoos, Zev," she said as she began tracing them lightly with her fingers. "Andraste's sword, they're beautiful," she whispered as Zevran moaned beneath her touch. She traced the intricate design across his chest with her fingers then her lips, following the pattern to where it disappeared beneath his britches. "Oh, and I hoped to see the rest of it," she said, looking up with a wicked look in her eyes.

Zevran growled as he pushed her back onto the bed, lowering himself on top of her. "I think your massage will have to wait my dear," he managed to say before claiming her mouth in passionate kiss. He ran his hand over her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face, "I must say, we have come very far from those early days when I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me," he said with a laugh. "Fate is such a tricky whore, isn't she?"

Eriana wrapped her arms around her Antivan lover. "And thank the Maker for that," she said as she ran her hands up his back and pulled his lips back to hers.


	20. Zevran and Eriana 20

Zevran looked down at the elven woman sleeping peacefully beside him. Her long blond hair cascaded in waves over her slender shoulders and down her back which rose and fell steadily with each contented breath. One lithe arm was thrown gracefully above her head while the other was tucked neatly at her side, a hand resting peacefully under her cheek. He ran a hand lightly down her spine, careful not to rouse her but unable to resist the desire to touch her ever so gently. Her breathing hitched slightly and she stirred a bit beneath his hand before she gave a soft sigh and her breaths resumed their normal rhythm. Zevran frowned slightly as his eyes and hand passed over the scars that marred her otherwise perfect skin. Her left shoulder still bore the scar from Sten's long sword as well as an ugly gash where a darkspawn's arrow had impaled her at Ostagar. As he ran his hand further down her back, his frown deepened as he brushed over three lash marks that stretched across her lower back, scars from a different kind of battle. He had noticed them during their second or third evening together when he had finally given her an Antivan massage.

"My dear Warden, where ever did you get these nasty looking marks across you back?" he asked while they were in her tent. They looked like the marks left behind by the crow masters who beat the children during training, but he couldn't imagine where she would get marks such as those.

"Hum, oh, those." She sighed, reaching back and running her fingers over the slightly raised ridges across the small of her back. "Remember when I told you that I had a few relationships with some of the younger noblemen in Denerim?" Zevran nodded. "Well, these are a result of the last one." Zevran motioned for her to continue. "He was the son of one of the Banns who was in town for some landsmeet. I met him his first night in Denerim when he came into the tavern. He was handsome and sweet and asked if he could meet me after I got off work. I was expecting the worst when I found him waiting for me, but nothing really happened that first night. He just walked around the market place with me, talking about his home and Denerim; then he walked me to the gates of the ailenage and kissed me goodnight. He came into the tavern every day that next week just to talk or say hi, and he would walk me back to the ailenage every night. Eventually, he invited me back to his father's estate; by that time I was enamored with him. He had been nothing but kind and generous to me, and I had come to trust him a great deal. I ended up spending every evening with him for the next two weeks." Eriana looked up at Zevran, "I was young and so stupid; I thought he loved me, I mean, he told me as much. He told me that it didn't matter that I was an elf, that I was the most beautiful woman that he had ever met, and he was going to take me away with him to be with him forever. I was such a fool, I believed everything he said." She gave a slight chuckle, "I thought he was in love with me, and I with him."

Zevran had seen where this story was headed. Young naïve elven women were easy targets for lewd and lusty young men; this he knew from experience. Many saw it as a game to lure young women in and crush their dreams. He felt for Eriana as she continued her story. "When it came time for his family to leave, he begged me to come to the estate with him, so he could introduce me to his family. When I arrived, most of the household staff was gone, as was the Bann and his wife. The only people there were him and his friends. He was never interested in me. He introduced me to his friends and then expected me to…" she couldn't finish. "When I refused, he beat me pretty severely. The last thing I remember was being whipped with a leather belt and kicked around. They must have dumped me at the alienage because my cousins found me at the gate and carried me home. It's a wonder I survived."

When she finished her story, Zevran was surprised at how angry he was at this unknown man, at the overwhelming desire to kill that was welling up in his chest. He calmly asked if she remembered the man's name, but she refused to tell him. "Look, Zev, the experience taught me to be more careful, more guarded, especially with my heart. It's one thing to hurt my body; in a way I'd gotten used to that. He was the first to hurt my heart."

"And the last?" Zevan asked.

Eriana glanced over her shoulder at him, a guarded, cautious look on her face, "So far." And that was the last she would speak on the subject. But the scars remained, and not only on her back, that much Zevran was sure of. She looked so peaceful, lying beside him in the dim light of the runes in her tent; it was hard to believe that she had been through so much and come out relatively unscathed. Sighing, Zevran found his gaze returning to his lover's face. Dark eyelashes rested lightly on sun-kissed cheeks and a slight smile remained on her smooth lips even in sleep. Alistair was right, he was a lucky man.

Zevran had known many lovers through his thirty years, but the woman beside him was truly unique. Most of his former bed companions could be grouped into one of three categories: assassination marks, fellow Crows, or casual flings. But Eriana was in a class apart from his past conquests; perhaps it was because of the way he felt he could almost relax when he was with her. In the past, it had been difficult to relax in any relationship. When bedding targets, one always had to be alert for any possible danger; the same was true with bedding fellow Crows, you never knew when your lover might just try to kill you. Casual flings in Antiva also required caution, for you may just as easily find yourself the target of an assassination attempt of the victim of petty crime. Zevran had learned to take pleasure in bed but to never let your guard down, but now he was dangerously close to doing just that. And that frightened him more than he cared to admit. They had been together ever night for nearly three weeks now, and already he felt more open and vulnerable than he had in years. Everything that he believed the crows had beaten out of him seemed to be creeping back in, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Only one other person in his life could even compare to the exquisite creature sleeping beside him, Rinna.

They were so alike, the woman by his side and the woman he had tried to forget. Both beautiful, fierce, confident, and deadly, but Rinna had been a Crow, and because of that, Zevran had allowed himself to doubt her. But Eriana was no Crow; she had all the qualities that had made Rinna so alluring but none of the drawbacks that had made Rinna so dangerous. She was incapable of betraying him because to her core, she was a good person, Zevran realized this, and that's what made her more dangerous than any of Zevran's former lovers. He remembered how easily he had fallen for Rinna, how he had come to love her when he thought love was all but lost to him forever. But in the end, he believed the lie; he laughed as she died at his feet. Feelings like this were dangerous for Zevran. He was enjoying his time with the Warden, that much was true, but he refused to put himself out there again, he refused to let another person in, to let someone get so close. So every night, after his Warden fell asleep, Zevran stole out of her tent and returned to his own. Bedding her was one thing, but staying with her the night, sleeping with her in his arms was far too intimate, and the very thought of it made him nervous. But each night, he was finding it harder and harder to leave her side. He couldn't deny the fact that he was drawn to her, more than he cared to admit, and he realized that he was swimming in dangerous waters, but the desire to be with her was too strong to deny.

He should leave, that much was clear. He was risking far more than his life by staying with her, but the reward, oh the reward was proving far greater than the risk. Lying beside him was the reward, one he didn't feel like he deserved, one he could have never earned. Sighing, he moved to gather his things and head back to his tent. Beside him, Eriana rolled over, pulling up her blanket to cover her completely. Sighing, she stretched looked looked up at him, "You're still here, so I guess it's not morning yet." Quickly, she grabbed his tunic out of his hands and pulled it over her head.

Zevran grinned. "No my dear, it's just past midnight," he said, giving her a light peck on the forehead.

"Hum, well, let the dog in as you leave," she mumbled as she rolled over, under her blanket once more.

Zevran gave her one final look before leaving. Seeing her lying there, peaceful and beautiful, wearing only his tunic was almost his undoing. "My Warden," he thought to himself. He shook his head and quietly stepped into the night air. As Zevran secured the flap of her tent behind him, he glanced up to see Alistair sitting on watch across the fire, a grim look on his face. Zev laughed to himself as he gave the templar a little wave, only to receive a grunt in return. Yeah, there was no denying it; he was in deep.

* * *

A golem, Eriana had managed to find a golem, but with her luck, it was no ordinary golem. No, no, this one came with a broken control rod and an attitude. The thing insisted on calling her 'it' and had an unyielding hatred of birds, not that Eriana could blame it on that one; she imagined that the golem had been much abused by the birds over the years. If fact, the golem liked to shout "death to all pigeons" just before charging into battle, a fact that sent Leliana into hysterics during their first battle alongside Shale. Eriana had been referring to Shale as he since the golem joined their party; she certainly wasn't going to call him 'it.' Leliana, however, was convinced Shale was female.

"Just consider the facts," Leliana pointed out while they were stopped for a short lunch break one afternoon. "She loves gemstones, and loves those crystals because they make her simmer and glitter. If that doesn't scream woman, what does?"

"Um, Zevran likes shiny things, and he's definitely not a woman," Eriana pointed out with a laugh.

"Yes, but he's Antivan, so it doesn't count."

"I like to crush soft things and watch them fountain blood," Shale added. "That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?"

Zevran glanced up, adding his two coppers, "If you're Morrigan."

Shale wandered over to Zevran and began talking to him about being a Crow, and Leliana leaned over and whispered to Eriana, "And right there is proof positive that she is female. Already she is enamored with your Antivan, yes?"

Eriana laughed, "True, _she_ does seem rather fascinated with Zev." In fact, she had noticed the golem's interest in Zevran. Shale had spent most of the previous day walking with the elven assassin, asking him questions, scolding him for assaulting helpless statues with feces. Shaking her head, Eriana was about to return to her meal when she realized that the two were talking about her.

"It attacked the Grey Warden, and yet it still lives. Had the decision been mine, its skull would have been so much pulp right now."

Zevran laughed, "Oh, I don't know. Could you destroy something as pretty as I am, hmm?"

"Easily," Shale retorted, "I fail to see how any measure of attractiveness would make one difficult to crush."

"Perhaps you do not know how to look, then. Take a long look at our Grey Warden, my stony friend. Right there we have an object worthy of worship, no?" Eriana smiled to herself as she discreetly listened to the two talk.

"So the painted elf seeks the attention of the Grey Warden."

Eriana could hear the smug grin on Zevran's face when he answered, "He certainly does."

Shale sighed, "I have watched many such couplings during the time I spent immobile in Honnleath. Or should I say I was forced to watch. You do know that this usually ends in reproduction. I have seen it many times, indeed."

Eriana's head shot up, and it took every bit of will in her not to turn and look at Zevran to see his reaction. She wasn't the only one interested in this turn in the conversation. Alistair also looked up from his food; his concerned gaze fixed on Eriana.

"Oh?" said Zevran with a casual tone to his voice, "That is not such a terrible thought. Creating a new life can be a great deal of fun." Eriana's heart skipped a beat. "From such moments, a beautiful thing is created; it is the cycle of life my stone friend. It is one of the great joys of life."

Eriana didn't hear the rest of the conversation; her head was reeling. Was that something Zevran wanted? True, they were nowhere near being serious enough to discuss such things, but if a family was something he wanted if the future, it was something she couldn't give him. Her mouth was suddenly dry, her heart in her throat. Surely this wasn't something he wanted, but he had been so casual about it. And though she tried to deny it, Eriana knew Zevran well enough to infer his feelings. This was something he wanted, even if he didn't know it just yet, but Eriana could feel it. She glanced at Alistair who was still looking intently, an apologetic look on his face. She shrugged and returned to her meal, suddenly no longer hungry.

* * *

_Okay, so both Zev and Eriana have some issues they need to work through. Thanks for all the support!_


	21. Eriana 21

"Adaia, tell me a story, one with dragons," pleaded the little blonde elven girl snuggled in Eriana's arms. The child looked up at her, excitement shinning in bright blue eyes. "I promise I won't go to sleep this time, please."

Eriana laughed, "Okay, but the only story I know about dragons is really scary," she said, wrapping her arms around the child. They were sitting in front of a roaring fire in her home in the ailenage, the smells of her father's Winter Solace stew filling the air. Leaning back in the leather chair that she remembered fondly from her childhood, she began telling the little girl the story of the Grey Wardens and the archdemon, playing with the child's blond hair as she talked. The little girl squealed at the exciting parts and clapped when her mother told about King Alistair beheading the beast.

"That was always my favorite part, too," a voice behind her said. Turning around, Eriana saw her father standing behind her, cradling a small bundle in his arms. He patted the girl on the head, "Run along now, child; your mother needs to feed your little brother."

Eriana took the small bundle into her arms and looked down into the honey-colored eyes of the baby boy in her arms. She smiled, an overwhelming feeling of contentment filling her. But there was another feeling, a deeper feeling. Something about this wasn't quite right. She looked around the room; it was exactly as she always remembered it, but it wasn't somehow. She was still curiously looking around when the front door opened, and Zevran walked in. "Ada!" shouted the little girl as she ran into the assassin's arms. Zevran took up the girl and spun her around, laughing happily.

"Hello, my precious. How is my girl today?" he asked her, kissing her lightly on the cheeks. Zevran crossed the room, the little girl perched on his hip, and kissed Eriana lightly on the lips. "And how are you today, my love?"

Eriana blinked and looked up at her assassin. "My love? Zevran never called me love; as far as she knew that word never crossed his lips," Eriana thought to herself. She looked back at the little girl in his arms, "What is her name? What kind of a mother am I that I don't even know my own daughter's name." Then it hit her. Of course she didn't know her name; she didn't have a name because she didn't exist. Eriana looked down at the baby in her arms; he doesn't exist either, Eriana realized suddenly. "None of this is real; I can't have children. I'm a Grey Warden." Tears welled up in her eyes as she suddenly remembered where they were. They were in the Circle Tower, trapped by a demon. The demon was creating this somehow; he somehow knew what she wanted and was using it to control her.

She looked, first at Zevran, then her father, and finally into the blue eyes of the blond child clinging to Zevran. "I'm sorry," she said. "This isn't real; it's some kind of dream."

"But Adaia, Mommy," cried the little girl, "don't you want me. Don't you love me; don't I make you happy."

"Come, my love," purred Zevran, "stay with us; we will make you happy."

"But it's not real," she said with tears rolling down her cheeks. "You're not real; as much as I want to, I can't stay. I'm so sorry."

"Fool!" the Zevran thing hissed at her, "Can't you just be content? Don't you know resistance is futile!" The alienage seemed to melt around her, the raw nature of the fade coming into focus, and slowly the child in her arms disappeared. "You will never escape, silly mortal."

Eriana drew her blades as 'Zevran' drew his. "Please don't make me do this," she pleaded as he came at her. Metal clashed against metal as the two elves moved around each other. "This isn't Zevran," she told herself, "This is a demon." But that didn't make it any easier when her dagger and sword crossed each other at his throat, causing him to fall at her feet. Suddenly a portal appeared in the middle of the room, but Eriana found herself temporarily unable to move. She sank to the floor and dissolved into a mass of tears.

* * *

It had been a grueling day in the tower. They had fought their way through the tower all night only to be caught in the snares of the Sloth demon. Eriana had been the only one to see the world around her for what it was, so she had to navigate though the fade to find each of her friends and defeat the demon once and for all. Then all they had to do was defeat the blood mages, the Uldred demon abomination thing, and a few more baby dragons and the tower was safe, mages help against the Blight secured. Eriana was exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep, but her mind was racing. She simply couldn't get the demon's illusion out of her head. Children, her and Zevran's children, children that will never exist. Eriana sat on the banks of Lake Calenhad, looking at the tower bathed in moonlight, completely lost in her thoughts. Leliana tried to talk to her, but couldn't get her to open up, neither could Wynne, so Zevran went to sit beside her, his arm around her.

"Musing over the name of the lake again, my dear?" That managed to get a bit of a smile out of her, but she was still quiet, staring off into the distance. "Would you like to talk about what happened in the tower, in the fade?"

Eriana shook her head, "Alistair," she said quietly. "Could you get Alistair for me?"

Zevran looked a bit surprised and somewhat hurt, but got up slowly to walk away. Eriana caught his arm before he was out of reach. She grabbed his hand and held it close to her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Zev," she said as she rubbed his hand and forearm, "it's secret Grey Warden stuff. I…"

Zevran brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm and the soft part of her wrist, "Of course, my Warden. We will talk after you have finished your business." She gave him a weak smile and nodded, turning her attention back to the lake. She couldn't help but think about her demon induced dream and try to figure out what it meant. Alistair's dream had been something he desired, a relationship with his sister. Wynne's dream was her greatest fear, failing the tower and allowing her students to come to harm. Zevran's dream seemed to be a memory of his time with the Crows. Perhaps the demon had picked up the thing that was foremost on their mind. She had been thinking about children a lot since she overheard the Zevran's conversation with Shale. When Alistair told her the physical changes that came with being a Warden, she wasn't bothered by the possibility that she might never be a mother. The life of a Grey Warden wasn't exactly conducive to motherhood, and she had never really wanted kids anyway. But now, now that she got the impression that Zevran might want to be a father; well, that changed things.

"Zevran said you wanted to talk," Alistair said, sitting down beside her. "Something about Warden stuff."

"Yeah, I was just thinking about being a Warden and how that changes you. It's quite a sacrifice when you really think about it isn't it? I mean, I'm only eighteen now, so that means I'll never see fifty, never live beyond my forties." She glanced over at Wynne, a slightly envious look across her face. "I was grateful to Duncan for saving me, but he didn't really save me did he? He just prolonged my sentence. You said it yourself, the taint is a death sentence; we just have to live with it for so long."

"So you're mad at Duncan for recruiting you?" She shrugged. "Eriana, you would have been executed, at least now you have time. Thirty years is a long time; you can still have a full life."

Eriana's eyes flashed with anger, "A full life? How can this be considered a full life? We have no home. We are on the run constantly, and even if we survive this, what kind of life would that be? A soldier's life isn't exactly what I'd call a full life either." She was quiet for a moment then she looked up at Alistair, "And recently I've been reminded that there will always be something missing from my life, something else that being a Warden has taken from me."

Alistair glanced over at her, "What brought this on all of a sudden?"

"My dream from the fade," she said, shaking her head. "You're not the only one who dreamed of a life you missed out on." She put her hands in her head and massaged her temples. "I dreamt that I was back home with a family of my own. I had a daughter and a baby boy who looked just like Zev. I was happy and content." She gave a small laugh, "and that's how I knew it was all a dream. I was there, telling my daughter stories, feeding my son, waiting for my husband to come home, and I knew, I knew that it would never be that way for me. I knew it was all a lie." She looked up at Alistair, "I had to kill him, you know. In the fade, I had to kill Zevran to escape."

She sighed, "So this Grey Warden women not having kids, is that a hard and fast rule or is it just an assumption?"

Alistair shrugged, "I'm not sure; I've never heard of a Warden giving birth, but Fereldan never had any female Wardens while I was with them. It would be harder for women than men since woman carry the child. There would be a greater chance of passing along the taint to the baby."

"Would that make it some kind of darkspawn?" Eriana asked, the memory of the broodmother fresh on her mind.

"No, I would think it would just kill it; like the taint kills most people. A baby just wouldn't be strong enough to fight it. Why are you worried about this anyway? Does Zevran want kids?"

Eriana shrugged, "You heard his conversation with Shale, Alistair. It seems like something he might want one day."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Eriana shook her head. "Then perhaps you should before you get yourself all worked up."

Eriana laughed, "How do you bring up something like that with someone you're casually seeing? 'Hey Zev, do you want kids with me? Cause if you do, too bad.' Like that won't send him running the other way screaming."

Alistair laughed, "You're probably right, not the best idea." He was quiet for a moment then he looked down at her. "And just so you know, I don't think this thing between you two is as casual you either of you like to think it is." Eriana glanced up at him, wide-eyed. "I'm pretty sure he's crazy about you, even if he doesn't want to admit it. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can see you feel the same way. But hey, don't ask me; I'm just the unrequited lover waiting in the wings for things to fall apart."

"Alistair."

"No, no, no, I'm just saying, don't get yourself worked up till you know all the facts. Talk to him, and if her runs away screaming, well, you always have another option."

Eriana laughed, shaking her head, "Thanks Alistair. In your own weird way, you've made me feel so much better."

"I guess that's what I'm here for," he said as he got up. "I'll send Zevan over if he's not already lurking around over here in the shadows." He was a few steps away when he turned back to her, "So what was his dream about?"

"No, no, if I tell you his dream, I get to tell him yours. My lips are sealed."

Alistair shook his head, "So it wasn't full of Antivan dancing girls worshiping him and feeding him grapes, then."

She rolled her eyes, "Go!" Smiling, she turned back to the lake, feeling strangely better. This melancholy feeling wasn't like her at all; maybe they should swing by Denerim on their way to the Dalish. The alienage should be open by now; seeing her family would definitely cheer he up. Maybe she just needed to get as far away from the circle as possible. Hearing light footsteps behind her, Eriana turned to see Zevran walking up to her.

Zevran settled himself behind her, pulling Eriana unceremoniously into his arms. She rested her head against the firm leather armor covering his chest, breathing deeply, inhaling his unique scent. He gently untied the leather band holding her hair up, letting it cascade down over her shoulders and began running his fingers through it. They sat in silence for a long time, watching the moonlight dance over the small waves the wind created on the river's bank. "About the fade, Zev."

"Shhh, there is no reason to talk about it if you are uncomfortable with what you saw. My training left quite a deep impression on me it seems."

Eriana shook her head. "It's not about your dream; it's about mine." She explained her dream to him, carefully watching his face, trying to read his reaction. "I guess it was prompted by the conversation you and Shale had the other day; you know, the one about kids."

"And why did you feel that this dream was so improbable," Zevran asked, a confused look on his face. "Do you think that I am unwilling to be a father or that I wouldn't be a good one? Is that what has you concerned?"

Eriana was silent for a moment. "Quite the opposite, really. I was afraid it might be something you wanted; something that I can't exactly give you. You see, being a Warden, well, it changes you. You already know about the nightmares and sensing darkspawn, but the physical changes go a bit further than that. Chances are good that I won't be able to have kids, so if that was something you wanted…"

She was silenced for a moment by Zevran's lips devouring hers. She relaxed for a moment, all the tension melting out of her as his lips moved over hers. "All that I want right now, mia cara, is you." Eriana looked up into his warm amber eyes, relief rushing over her. "Just think, between the Crows and the darkspawn, what terrible parents we would be. Always at work, never at home, jumping at every sound, not the most stable life for a young one, don't you think?" Eriana chucked lightly, "And, in the future, if you change your mind, we can always snatch one from some chantry orphanage, no?"

"Oh, Zev," she said with a laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck, "you always know the just right things to say." Zevran leaned down and whispered something in her ear, causing a deep crimson blush to rise up the neck. "And all the dirty things too," she said, collapsing into his arms.


	22. Eriana and Alistair 22

They needed a day off, that much was certain, so when they came upon a peaceful meadow just on the edge of Lake Calenhad, Eriana insisted that they take a day off to rest. They had only traveled a day or so from the Circle Tower on their way to Denerim, but this lovely little meadow was too perfect, too serene to pass up. To Eriana's surprise, no one protested; after all, they hadn't had a true day off since leaving Orzammar, so it seemed a break was welcomed by all. After setting up camp, Morrigan transformed into a wolf and took off into the woods to 'commune with nature' Eriana assumed. Wynne began mending a pile of shirts that Alistair had given her, claiming that when he sewed the holes, they always puckered and fit wrong. Alistair managed to get Sten to talk about something, probably his sword, while the two of them worked with Ramoth on battle commands.

Ogren wandered over to the corner of the camp where the three rogues had deposited themselves. Zevran was sitting with three sets of blades surrounding him, meticulously polishing and sharpening each weapon in turn. Eriana was working to pick a series of locks on a strange looking box while Leliana was instructing her on the finer points of lock picking. Ogren plopped down and joined in on their conversation.

"I can't believe she had the audacity to suggest that I wasn't doing my duty as a Grey Warden," Eriana said furiously, putting the training box on the ground in front of her. "I mean first I had to listen to her stories about griffons and the Wardens standing as a barrier between humanity and the darkspawn, like I need a metaphor to clarify exactly what it is I do. But then, she starts laying into Zevran, saying he's evil and only has one thing on his mind."

Zevran glanced up from Eriana's daggers. "Ah, but I am so good at that one thing, why would I not think about it constantly?" he said causing the others to laugh. "And with you so near, what else could I possibly thing of?"

"Not helping, Zev," Eriana said with a roll of her eyes. "Then the old bat goes on to lecture me that my behavior is unbecoming of a Warden." Eriana lowered her voice to mimic Wynne's, "Being a Grey Warden is not a coat you cast aside at the end of the day; it should inform your every action." She shook her head angrily, "She's been with us, what two days, and she's already passing judgment on me, telling me that I'm a bad Warden because I choose to have a personal life. The nerve. It's as if she thinks screwing Zevran suddenly makes it impossible to kill darkspawn."

Zevran shook his head. "Screwing Zevran, huh? Perhaps I am not as good as I thought if you still think of it as merely screwing. Perhaps we should go rectify that," he said with a grin.

Leliana rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Wynne is just doing what she thinks is best. You met her at Ostagar, yes?" Eriana nodded. "Then she knows that you have not been a Warden long. She is a teacher; perhaps she sees it as her job to teach you what it means to be a Grey Warden."

"Like I don't know what it means. Who has been out there killing darkspawn for five months? Me. Who has had to deal with the nightmares and the…" Eriana stopped herself, afraid of revealing too much, "the other stuff, me. We Wardens may be tasked with a noble cause, but that doesn't make us all noble people. Duncan told me as much; they recruit all kinds of people into our ranks in order to defeat the darkspawn, whatever the cost. We are called on to stand in the shadows, to fight this evil through any means necessary. We are not called on to be paragons of virtue."

"Hump, a good thing too, you know paragons are all crazy, don't ya?" Ogren added, taking a swig from his flask.

Eriana sighed, "What does she expect of me? Does she expect me to forego everything that makes me happy, how is that going to make me a better Warden?" She picked up Leliana's box again, "Sorry to unload on you guys. She just made me so mad last night."

"Oh, so is that why you were so…"

"Zevran, I swear, if you finish that sentence, I will run you through with one of those swords," Eriana said, trying hard to maintain her composure.

"I don't even what to know," said Leliana.

"Well, I do. Angry sex is the best sex, right there elf?" said Ogren with a laugh.

"Um, not that I want to talk about your sex life, Ogren, or even think about it really, but Leliana tells me that you were busy while we were in the tower killing abominations." Eriana said, grinning as she looked up at the dwarf. "Something about an old girlfriend who worked in the tavern."

"He he, good ole Felsi. Yeah, Leliana helped coach me through it. I owe you for that one, girlie."

"Wait," Leliana said looking surprised, "that was a success? I thought we had failed for sure; she said you smelled like nug droppings, you called her a surly bronto."

Ogren smiled and leaned back against a tree, "Yeah, just like old times."

Eriana laughed, "Well, I'm glad you managed to occupy yourself while we were killing demons in the fade." She turned her attention back to the box in front of her. "Leliana, I swear, this last lock is absolutely impossible. There is no way to get this thing open."

Zevran chuckled while Leliana moved beside her. "No, look, you're doing it wrong." Taking the elf's wrist, Leliana carefully showed her how to rotate her hand just right to undo the complicated lock. "It is delicate, see. Do you feel the resistance just there? Now lift your hand gently and volia! Now you do it."

Eriana concentrated on the box in front of her, carefully maneuvering her picks around the difficult lock. Much to her surprise and delight, the lock clicked open. She smiled and looked up at Leliana, "And voila!"

Zevran sighed, handing Eriana her daggers back, "You know, sometimes I think you women care nothing for your blades. Tisk, tisk, tisk, just look at these things," he said, holding up Leliana's weapons. "The neglect, the tarnish, it is a travesty of steel, my dear lady."

Leliana scoffed, but Eriana jumped in to her defense, "Not everyone is as experienced at, um, polishing their weapon, as you, Zevran." The group laughed as Zevran gave a little bow. Eriana looked down at her sword, "Wow, Zev, I take back everything I just said. These look brand new. How'd you do it?"

"As you said, I am the expert," he said with a chuckle. He tossed a vial of light green poison to her. "Plus that particular poison can be used to eat away the tarnish; just be careful not to cut yourself unless you want to spend the rest of the day seeing spots." Zevran stood up and stretched, "Well, my dear, if you have finished playing with your lock box, why don't we engage in some true training. A little stealth and stalk, perhaps?"

Eriana grinned. That sounded like a great idea; she hadn't had a true chance to work on her stealth skills in a while. She glanced at Leliana who shook her head. "You two have fun," said Leliana, "Stealth isn't exactly one of my strong points, as you well know. I prefer to hide in plain sight and blend in rather than slink through shadows."

"You can count me out too," added Ogren. "I'm not much for running and hiding in the woods like some fruity elf."

Zevran scowled over at the dwarf, "Such a shame. I am sure finding you in the woods would not be all that difficult; if the sound of your breathing and heavy armor didn't give you away, surely your smell would have. There are times I swear I could shoot you in the dark."

Ogren laughed, "Hey look at me; I'm an elf. Let's run and play in the pretty trees, tra la la la la."

"Enough, you two. Maker help me," said Eriana as she got up to get her dark cloak. "So, Zev; it's just you and me. So what are the stakes?"

Zevran thought for a moment, "First to disarm wins; loser is on armor duty for a week. I'll give you a two hundred count head start." Eriana grabbed her daggers, pulled on her dark cloak and disappeared onto the woods.

* * *

Alistair was sitting by the water's edge, petting Eriana's dog with Leliana walked over and sat down beside him. "Where's everyone else?"

Leliana sighed. "Well, Ogren passed out over there," she said waving her hand vaguely toward where they had been sitting. "Morrigan just got back with a brace of rabbits, and Zev and Ana are working on her stealth out in the woods somewhere."

Alistair sighed. He was still uncomfortable about the relationship between the two elves, and it wasn't because he was jealous (even though he was, very jealous). He simply didn't trust the elven assassin. Zevran was too shady, too devious, and he couldn't believe that Eriana had come to trust him so implicitly. It just didn't make any sense to him. Alistair glanced over at her pack where it rested beside her tent. Idly, he wondered if somewhere in that pack rested the rose that he had given her in a moment of transparency. As much as he hated it, he still cared a great deal for her, more than he was willing to admit even to himself. He hated to feelings of jealousy that ripped though him when he saw them laughing together, when he saw him touching her, even in an innocent way, and especially when he saw them disappear into her tent or saw him slinking away from it. The Antivan didn't deserve her; of that much, Alistair was certain. She deserved something better.

Leliana put her hand on Alistair's arm, "Alistair, I know this has been hard for you. Would you like to talk?"

"No, not really; I just hope she's okay, that she's not making a mistake trusting him," he said with a sigh and a glance back at the woods. "I hope she knows what she is doing."

* * *

At the moment, Eriana had no idea what she was going to do.

She had managed to remain hidden from Zevran's hawk-like eyes for about half an hour, but he managed to creep up behind her and pin her to the ground before she even realized he had found her. She looked up into his warm amber eyes and grinned, "It seems you have me at your mercy, Antivan, so what are you going to do with me."

Zevran looked down at her, desire clearly showing in his eyes. "Oh, I can think of a thing or two," he said with a coy look on his face. He took her wrists and pinned them above her head, "It seems that you are fully at my mercy, my Warden."

"I am yours," she said, arching her back so that her lips could meet his. She felt him release his hold on her wrists and lower himself onto her, his hands moving down her arms to settle on her waist as he moved against her. His lips hungrily searched out hers as his body began to grind against hers. Just as his left hand began to move down to her thigh, Eriana shifted her body weight, turning them both till she was perched on top of him, grinning like the devil, her dagger at his throat. Zevran blinked up at her, surprised. She leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. "I believe the stakes said that you must disarm your opponent," she said as the knocked his daggers away from his side and removed the ones that he had hidden elsewhere on his person. "And I believe you failed to do just that. I win."

Zevran laughed, his hands resting on her thighs, "Oh, you saucy minx. I have been had, and I didn't even know it." He gave her thighs a quick pat, "I must say, my Ana, I am quite impressed. You have used my best tricks against me."

"What can I say," she said with a shrug, "I learned from the best."

"So now, I do believe I am at _your_ mercy," Zevran said, running a hand gently up her leg. "What do you plan to do with me?"

"Well, you're the assassin, so you tell me. If you were me, what would you do if you found yourself straddling a target this handsome and this willing?" she asked, cocking her head to look down at him.

Zevran pulled her down and rolled back over on top of her. "I'm sure you can imagine," he said. "Shall I describe it to you while I do it?" he asked as he began to kiss her neck and shoulders.

Eriana sighed and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. She was about to whisper something in his ear, when a familiar feeling overwhelmed her, and she felt her entire body go rigid. Zevran froze immediately, "Darkspawn?" She nodded. "Where?"

Eriana looked up at him wide-eye, "Between us and the camp." Zevran swore. "There are about seven or eight of them."

"Can we sneak past them?"

Eriana shook her head, "They'll sense me. They're closer to us than to the camp," she said, her mind racing. "Nughumper! I don't have my bow or my pack." She glanced up at Zevran. "Do you have any health poultices or potions?"

Zevran checked his cloak, "Only two or three, and only two poisons."

"No acid or bombs?" Zevran shook his head. Eriana was quiet for a moment. Two rogues against eight darkspawn with no support and no room for error, even with their combined skill, this would be a close thing. If there was an emissary with the darkspawn, they were toast. "Look Zev, you can sneak past them and get to camp. They're headed this way; I think they've sensed me. You have to get help."

"I don't think so. I am not leaving you alone." Zevran's face was stern. "We'll just have to be extra careful, no?" Eriana nodded. "Just remember what we've worked on. Stun, trip, fight dirty, and find their weaknesses." Zevran grabbed her and pulled her into a passionate, desperate kiss. "We can do this, my Warden. Just focus." Eriana hoped he was right.

It was a close thing, definitely. Five genlocks, three hurlocks, and two shrieks stormed the two elves the moment they were within striking distance. Most of the darkspawn focused on Eriana, allowing Zevran to move stealthily around the flanks and take out the creatures quickly from behind. It wasn't the strategy either of them would have preferred, but it helped to dwindle the numbers quickly. But Eriana was taking damage, fast; so Zevran worked quickly to get the mass of monsters off of her. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite fast enough. There were just two darkspawn left, a shriek that had turned to attack Zevran, and a hurlock that was facing off against a blood-covered Eriana. Zevran managed to take out the shriek just in time to see the hurlock's sword pierce Eriana's armor just beneath her rib cage. She collapsed at the monster's feet seconds before Zevran removed its head. He ran to her side, relieved to find her still breathing, but just barely. Quickly he brought their two health potions to her lips, urging her to drink.

"Wynne, I need Wynne," she said, between desperate, shallow breaths. "I think it punctured a lung." Zevran nodded and gathered her up in his arms and began moving back toward the camp as quickly as possible. "When we get closer, use my whistle," she gasped out, "three short whistles mean trouble. Ramoth will come." Her breaths becoming more and more shallow and the world around her started to become fuzzy. The last thing she heard before everything went dark was Zevran's voice in her ear pleading, "Don't you dare leave me; hang on, Eriana."

* * *

Alistair sat beside the fire as Leliana began cooking dinner, the smells of rabbit and her Orlesian spices filling the air. He had enjoyed their day off, for the most part. About a half an hour ago, he had felt the weak presence of nearby darkspawn, but they had moved away before he could pinpoint anything. Now, he was beginning to grow concerned when he realized that Eriana had yet to return. He was considering forming a group to go after them when Ramoth suddenly perked up and started barking, looking anxiously between the woods and Alistair. "Morrigan," Alistair shouted, "go with Ramoth, something's wrong." Morrigan nodded, changing into a wolf and taking off into the woods with the dog. Alistair, Sten, and Ogren grabbed their weapons and took off after them into the woods. Alistair was chiding himself. He should have done more to stop her from getting so close to the Antivan; he should have been more forceful. A feeling of dread filled him as they moved through the underbrush as quickly as they could, moving toward Ramoth's howling. His templar senses felt Morrigan's magic as it filled the air.

Alistair burst into a small clearing where he saw Morrigan kneeling over Eriana's unconscious body. Next to them stood Zevran, covered in her blood. It was obvious that she had put up a struggle. It was too much for Alistair to process. In three quick strides, he crossed the clearing to Zevran and punched the elf in the face, knocking him to the ground. He glanced over at Ogren, "Tie him up." Eriana was wrong about the elf, he had tried to hurt her, and only by Andraste's grace had she been able to signal for Ramoth. Ogren looked up at him, confused. "Didn't you hear me, I said tie him up. And get him back to camp; I'll deal with him later."

Alistair walked over to Morrigan's side, "Is she going to be okay?"

Morrigan shrugged. "Tis too soon to tell. I have stopped the bleeding for now, but she is greatly injured. This is beyond my skill to cure. You need to get her to Wynne."

Alistair didn't need to be told twice. Gently, he gathered the petite woman into his arms and carried her carefully but quickly back to the camp. Morrigan transformed again and ran ahead to inform Wynne and Leliana while Sten and Ogren took care of the murderous, well, attempted murderous, elf. Alistair glanced back at the assassin. He was strangely quiet and deathly pale, but his eyes never left the woman in Alistair's arms. "Yea, buddy, you failed," Alistair thought, glumly to himself, "and now you will get what is coming to you. She'll let me do what we should have done months ago." Alistair wanted nothing more than to turn around and run the elf through, but that would have to wait. Eriana came first.

By the time the men made it back to camp with the unconscious Warden, Morrigan and Wynne were ready. Alistair felt Wynne's magic the moment they stepped out of the woods, and immediately Eriana's breathing began to improve, her face regain its color. He gently laid her down in the tent and left the two mages and the bard to tend to her. He had an assassin to deal with.

* * *

Something cold and wet was pressed against her face. Her armor was gone and there were bandages bound tightly around her waist. She could also hear someone whispering her name. "Zevran," Eriana whispered, unable to quite process what was going on. A woman's voice tried to hush her. Eriana struggled to open her eyes. Slowly the world came into focus around her; Maker, it hurt to breathe. "Lil, where is Zev?"

Leliana knelt down beside her, "You poor dear, did he do this to you?"

"What? No, darkspawn." Eriana managed to say between labored breaths.

Wynne appeared above her, "Don't strain yourself. You have a punctured lung, so you need to breathe gently." Wynne looked over at Leliana, "Go get Alistair."

"Alistair, no, Zevran. Please." Eriana begged, struggling to breathe, "Where is he?"

"You have to stay calm right now; Zevran is fine. When Alistair found you, he assumed, well we all kind of assumed…you would admit, he did look guilty."

"What (gasp) are you talking (gasp) about?"

"Here dear, drink this. It will help you sleep," Wynne said, holding a cup do her mouth.

Eriana pushed it away, "No. Zevran first."

The women looked at each other for a moment until Morrigan finally spoke up, "Alistair has him tied up; he seems to believe that twas he who did this to you."

"Sodding nughumper," Eriana said as she struggled to her feet. "Don't you…touch me," she said to the women who tried to hold her down. Pushing past them, she stumbled across the camp to where Alistair was standing beside her bound and bruised Antivan. Alistair caught her arm as she started to collapse at his feet. "Are you crazy?" she asked him between breaths. "Let him go…darkspawn attack…Zev saved me."

Ogren released him immediately. "He, what'd I tell ya. I knew he couldn't hurt her."

As soon as he was free, Eriana found being carried back to the tent in Zevran's arms. Alistair was beside her, trying to say something, but none of it was very clear to her. "Alistair…later," she managed to say before the world went fuzzy again.

Eriana awoke to the smells of leather and spices and the feel of strong arms gently cradling her. Smiling to herself, she turned and snuggled against Zevran's warm and comfortable chest. "You're awake, my Warden."

"Yeah, not for long; I'm far too comfortable to stay awake for very long," she said, smiling up into warm honey eyes. Zevran was looking at her with such affection and care that she almost thought she was back in the fade. Ever so gently, he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.

When he spoke, his words were whispered, almost pained, "I thought I had lost you; that they had come too late."

"What can I say," she said, breathing shallowly, "It takes more than a few darkspawn to get rid of me. Thank you, Zev." She looked up at him for a moment before her heavy eye lids pulled her back into the fade.

Zevran rested his cheek against her head, a great feeling of relief rushing through him; she was still with him. He remained there the rest of the night, sleeping peacefully with his Grey Warden in his arms, and the next time they stopped to make camp, he didn't even bother pitching his own tent.

_

* * *

_

Whew, so that one was a long one. I really didn't want to break it up into two short chapters. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and reading, I so appreciate it. And thanks to everyone who has added an alert. It is much appreciated. Let me know what you think!


	23. Eriana and Zevran 23

Eriana waited a few days before confronting Alistair, and not because she enjoyed watching the man squirm. After getting the whole story from Zevran and Ogren the next morning, Eriana needed a few days to calm herself down so she didn't end up saying something she would regret. Oh, she was furious at the templar, there was no doubt about that, but she tried to remind herself that Alistair had a tendency to be a teensy bit emotional and a bit prone to overreact. Well, maybe _very_ emotional and emotional and _very_ prone to overreact. He had her best interest at heart, she tried to tell herself, but that didn't change the fact that he had punched Zevran and tied him up while she was struggling for life. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn't made it. Shivering, she rolled over and nuzzled her head against Zevran's chest, receiving a light kiss on the top of the head in response before the assassin returned his attention to the book he had been reading. Leliana's copy of _The Rose of Orlais_ had been making its way around the party, much to the bard's amusement.

"You know he is on watch right now," Zevran said, setting the book aside for a moment.

"So?"

Zevran stroked the top of her head, running his fingers through her hair. "While I wouldn't normally suggest that my lover go to reconcile things with her former love, especially one who so recently broke my nose, keeping him waiting for your wrath like this is simply cruel." He looked down at her. "You need to talk to him. Now seems to be the ideal opportunity, no?"

"No," she said burying her head further into his chest, "Can't I just run him through? That would be easier, and probably cleaner."

Zevran chucked, "But alas, Fereldan needs a king, yes? And he happens to be the only royal bastard that we have on hand." He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "Go to him, you need to work this out, and you know it." He kissed her gently on tip of her nose. "I will be here when you finish, my dear Warden."

Groaning, Eriana sat up and pulled on her cloak and breeches. Zevran was right, as usual. Giving her assassin a quick kiss, she darted out of their tent into the cool night air. She saw Alistair sitting by the fire, poking at it with his sword. Eriana walked over to him and crossed her arms, looking down at him for a moment.

"Look, before you bite my head off, can I at least explain? You can feed me to the archdemon after if you want, but can I explain first?" Eriana motioned for him to continue. "When I found you guys, all I saw was you, lying there covered in blood and wounds, and beside you stood Zevran, his weapons at his feet, drenched in your blood, looking completely defeated. There was nothing else there, just you lying there dying and him beside you, his daggers on the ground. What else could I think? And once we got him back to the camp, he wouldn't say a word; he just stared at your tent."

"Alistair, did it ever occur to you that he was worried about me? That he was afraid I wouldn't make it?

"No! Of course not! Why would he care? He's a cold-blooded murder, Eriana; he's evil."

Eriana took several deep breaths before she sat down beside Alistair. Trying very hard to keep her voice level and calm, she said, "Then so am I. I am a murder, Alistair; does that make me evil too?"

"That's not the same, and you know it. You didn't have a choice; you were just defending yourself."

Eriana shook her head. "No, I had a choice. Vaughan was on his knees, begging me to spare his life. He offered me money, freedom, anything I wanted if I would spare him. I _chose_ to kill him. Does that make me evil?" She paused for a moment. "How about this, when I was fourteen and my father was too devastated by my mother's death to work, I picked pockets in the market for a few months so that I could buy food. Does that make me evil? No, wait, there's one more. When I was a teenager working in the tavern, noble men would slip money into my pocket and threaten to turn me into the guards. They told me that I could keep the money if they enjoyed themselves. So, in effect, I was paid for sex, so I guess I'm a whore too. How about that Alistair; I'm a thieving, murdering, whore; does that make me evil?"

"That's not the same, and you know it. You say you had a choice, but you did those things to survive."

"But they were still wrong in your eyes, right? I still stole; I killed; I got paid for sleeping with men. Those are all things the chantry forbids, yes? But I don't feel guilty for a single thing that I did, and I don't regret it for a minute. I did what I felt I had to do to survive. In the real world, good and evil isn't as clearly defined as it is in the Chant of Light. There is a gray area where most people are forced to choose between survival and what the chantry deems moral or right. I did what I did to stay alive; it's a lesson you learn young in the ailenage. So let me ask you a question; why are you okay with my past but not Zevran's?"

Alistair sighed, "Probably because Zevan seems to enjoy the life he has. Killing doesn't bother him like it does you. You may not regret what you've done, but you just admitted that you know it was wrong. He doesn't seem to know that, or even care."

"And who are you to judge him? Have you even considered what he has been through in his life? Just think about how and where he was raised. How can you expect him to have the same morals that you do?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Alistair asked.

"It has everything to do with it, Alistair. I want you to think about what he has been through in his life; just think about it. His mother was a prostitute who died giving birth to him, so he begins life feeling guilty and responsible for that. He was raised by whores who cared nothing for him. For the first six years of his life, he watched men and women sell themselves and sell the illusion of love. He saw physical love but never had anyone who cared for him, who loved him. He was beaten, knocked around, ignored, barely fed, and then sold to the Crows.

"Now, at the tender age of seven, he is taught that murder is a way of life; the only way to survive. He was taught to fight, to seduce; to deceive; he was beaten, tortured, and force-fed poisons to build his immunity. He was pinned against other children and watched the weak ones die around him. Every sign of weakness, compassion, or fear earned him another beating. He learned to be cold, to shut off emotion, to kill to survive."

Eriana was quiet for a moment. "I never told you how I found him in the fade, did I?" Alistair shook his head. "He was being tortured by the Crows, being racked. Somehow, he found himself back in Crow training, trying desperately to prove he could tolerate pain, that he was brave enough to be a Crow." Eriana looked down at her feet, "It was absolutely heartbreaking to see what he had been forced to endure for years. His life has been full of pain and deceit, not a moment of true compassion or love. He wasn't taught right and wrong as you were in the chantry; he was taught strength means life, weakness means death. How could you possibly judge him by the same standards?"

Alistair looked down at his feet. "Look, Alistair, I know that there were many things missing from your childhood too and that Isolde made things difficult for you, but even when things were the worst for you, it was still far better than anything Zev ever had. You never had to be afraid of being beaten for showing a little emotion. You always knew where your next meal was coming from. There was always some kind of security in your life." Eriana reached over and toughed the amulet that was resting against his chest. "And there was love, someone who did care for you. You never really had to struggle to survive till now. Zevran never had any of that; life has been a constant struggle for him, and yet, through it all, deep down he is still a good person. There is good in him; I know it. The Crows didn't beat every good thing out of him; it's there if you take time to see it."

She got up, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm not saying you have to like Zev; I doubt that's even possible. Just try to see where he's coming from and imagine how that's affected him, then maybe you might not be as quick to judge him." She turned to head back to her tent, but stopped after a few steps, "Oh, and just so you know, if you ever do anything like that to him again, you may find yourself walking back to Redcliff alone, unless, of course, you actually see him stab me, then you're good to go. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. Good night, Eriana," said Alistair turning back to the fire as she walked away. "Hey, Eriana, can I ask you one more question?" She turned and looked back at him. "Do you love him?"

* * *

Zevran hadn't intended to stay awake and listen to the confrontation between Alistair and his Warden. He didn't particularly enjoy listening her yell at people, even if Alistair did deserve it. But try as he might, he was soon too engrossed in the conversation to simply roll over and go to sleep. So he listened as Alistair defended his actions, and Zevran had to admit, the templar made sense. He would probably have assumed the same thing had he been in Alistair's ugly, practical boots. When Zevran heard Morrigan approaching in her wolf form, he had put Eriana down, believing he had to fight off a wolf attack. He had been so relieved to see the witch that he just dropped his weapons and stood there watching as she worked to save his Warden. Everything after that had been a blur for Zevran; his every thought focused on the woman fighting for life in the tent. He didn't even realize how truly concerned he had been till later that night as Eriana slept in his embrace, but by then, he was so relieved that he didn't care about the implications of his feelings. That night had changed things for the two of them, but neither of them seemed willing to discuss or even acknowledge the change that had transpired between them.

The conversation between the two Wardens continued for a while before Alistair fell back on his old argument: Zevran's a murder so you can't trust him. He expected Eriana to shrug it off the way she had several times before, but she surprised him by calling herself a murder too and listing all the other things she had done in the name of survival. Maker's breath, she was comparing herself to him, absurd. What did such a woman have in common with a whoreson like him? Much to his surprise, Zevran found himself agreeing with Alistair; she had no choice in her actions. She was a far better person than he could ever hope to be, but there she was defending him with every fiber of her being. As she continued to talk about him, Zevran's heart began to swell. Never before had anyone said such things about him and with such passion; he didn't know quite how to react. Had he really told her all those things about his past or had she simply inferred them from their conversations? Zevran was quite sure he had not admitted to feeling such emotions, either. He was impressed by how intuitively she seemed to know him, how well she understood things about him that no one else was privy to.

Zevran was suddenly concerned; how had he allowed himself to become so open with someone? This wasn't at all like him. He had realized that they had grown closer than any of his past, more casual affairs, but when had this happened? He was usually so cautious, closed off. Somehow this woman and maneuvered through the barriers he had placed before him, behind the mask he so carefully donned. She had seen his true self, the Zevran he kept hidden, even from himself. And she thought he was a good man, despite his faults, despite his past misdeeds, she still thought he was good; he was touched by the fact that she seemed to think so highly of him. Deep inside, a longing to be near her grew stronger.

As Eriana was leaving to return to him, Zevran heard Alistair ask her a final question that nearly caused Zevran's heart to stop. "Do you love him?" Zevran took a quick breath, afraid to hear her answer, regardless of what it was. The moments between his question and her response seemed to draw out for an age. Finally he heard her respond.

"Love? Who can know these things, Alistair? Do I care for him, yes, a great deal, but do I love him? I don't know, it's simply too soon to tell, really." Zevran breathed a bit easier.

"But you're sleeping with him. How can you be with him if you don't love him?" Zevran smiled to himself when he heard that one, silly chantry boy.

"Those two things don't always have to go together, you know, Alistair, and I'm not saying love isn't a possibility sometime down the road." He heard her sigh, "I have been hurt before because I let myself love too easily, and I won't make the same mistake again." Zevran relaxed again.

He heard the flap of the tent rustle and watched through half closed eyes as she slipped into the darkness of the tent. He listened as she quietly slipped out of her clothes and into one of his long tunics and felt her slide beneath the blankets beside him. For a moment, he wondered if he should feign sleep, but the desire to be near her at this moment was simply too strong. As soon as the blankets closed around them, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, her cool little body shivering slightly against his warmth. "Hey," she whispered softly, turning toward him, "did I wake you? I tried to be quiet."

"No, I was still awake when you came in."

"Did you hear all of that?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He nodded, running his hand down her cheek. "I did, my dear. I have to say, I am surprised by what you said."

Eriana looked up at him, confused. "Did I say too much; are you upset with me?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," he said kissing her lightly on the cheek. "I have never had anyone stand up for me in such a way; I am quiet flattered to say the least."

"I meant it," she said, gazing up at him in the dark. "Every word."

"I know," he whispered into her ear as he pulled her beneath him, every inch of his body begging for her touch. He heard her sigh as she melted into him, yielding completely to his touch. They had been together so many times before, giving in to the throws of passion, the hunger of desire, and the allure of lust, but this night was different than anything Zevran had ever experienced before. He had touched her before, but tonight, he seemed to feel her in a way that was wholly new. He seemed to drink her in, taking in all that she had to give. There was a tenderness to his kisses, her touches, their whispers. All the urgency of their past tumbles was lost to the slow, gentle passion of this night. It was like they were discovering each other for the first time, but with no hesitation, just warmth and affection as they moved in perfect synchronicity. The world around them seemed to disappear, and for a moment, his world was this woman in his arms. As he drifted into the fade, her head on his chest, his arm around her waist, Zevran sighed, feeling more happy and content than he had ever felt before.

It wasn't until the next morning that Zevran was able to identify the difference between the previous night and all the nights before. Always before it was simply bedding someone, taking pleasure where it could be found, even with Eriana, but this time it was different. He had had a lot of sex in the past, but that was the first time he had ever made love, a fact that did not escape him when he awoke in the morning. How this would change things between them, Zevran didn't know. For now, Zevran was simply content to have his Warden safely in his arms. The Crows and the cares of tomorrow would simply have to wait. Whatever the future brought, now more than ever, Zevran was certain he could face them as long as she was at his side.

_

* * *

_

Okay, so that conversation turned out to be a bit longer than I anticipated. Sorry that there wasn't much action in this one, but there were some things that just needed to be said between the Wardens. Hope you enjoyed this one, thanks for reading and reviewing.


	24. Eriana and Zevran 24

_Thank you to everyone who had added and reviewed. I am a teacher and my summer is over as of next week, so my updates will be coming at a slower pace now that I'm back to work full time. Hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think!_

* * *

Eriana was happy. Her quest to build an army to fight the blight was going as well as could be expected; she had true friends who cared for her; and she had Zevran. The things that had caused her pain in the past seemed to remain just there, in the past, and for a moment, it seemed like she could finally put it all behind her. Perhaps now she could put behind the pain, the loss, the abuse, and just be happy. But the past has a way of catching up to you when you least expect it. Little did she know that just inside the gates of Denerim, her past, Zevran's past, Leliana's past, and Alistair's past all awaited them.

Leliana's past had been relatively easy to reconcile. Her former boss, Marijolaine, had sent a team of inept assassins to ambush them, so they confronted her and inevitably had to kill her. Alistair's past was easy to rectify as well, but in a way, meeting with his shrew of a sister was almost messier than killing Marijolaine. It would have been a lot messier if Zevran hadn't held Eriana back when Goldanna suggested that she was Alistair's elven love slave. Alistair looked so completely crestfallen when they left the small house that Eriana decided it was time to pay Braxton in the Gnawed Noble Tavern a visit. She sent Leliana and Zevran to check on Genitivi while she and Alistair entered the tavern. Braxton greeted her with his usually exuberance, enveloping her in a huge hug as soon as she walked up to the bar.

"Ana, my dear, what can I get for you," he asked, with a big smile on his face.

"Well, my friend here needs a strong drink, and I need a favor."

Alistair and Eriana took a seat at the bar while Braxton poured them some mead. Alistair quickly began nursing the drink, trying to drown his sorrow over his shrill sister. "Now, Ana, what can I do for you?"

Eriana glanced around before she began speaking in Antivan. _"We need a place to lay low for a few days. I have some armor being built, and I'm doing a few odd jobs for Kylon while we're here. Is there any chance your back rooms are available, you know, the ones you get to from the alley?"_

Braxton nodded, "_Sure, how many do you need?"_

"_Three if you've got them. One private room and two others with several beds would be perfect." _Braxton glanced over at Alistair and raised an eyebrow. Eriana shook her head, "_Not quite. He's a fellow Warden; the only fellow Warden, actually."_

"_Sure I can do that, no problem. I have a few other guests staying here, but they shouldn't give you any problem._" Eriana smiled up at him and took a quick swig of her drink as Zevran and Leliana came into the tavern. She gave them a quick nod to wait for a moment before the turned back to Braxton. His eyes were narrowed and he was looking intently at Zevran, almost like he was apprising him. "_Is that him?_" he asked nodding toward Zevran. Eriana nodded, taking another drink of her mead. "You know he's a Crow right?" he said in Fereldan, making sure Alistair heard and understood him.

Eriana rolled her eyes, "Yes, I know and so does he. How do you know anyway?"

Braxton looked down at her, "I can tell; I know what to look for. Eriana, what are you doing? You should know better than to get mixed up with the Crows."

"Not my choice," she said with a wave of her tankard. "The regent sent that one to kill me a few months ago."

"And you kept him around. Eriana, I thought you were smarter than that?" Braxton said, as his eyes flicked to the guest rooms down the hall. Eriana turned to follow his glance.

"Yeah, I tried to tell her that, too," Alistair muttered beside them.

"Oh, you stay out of this; just finish your drink." Eriana turned back to the bartender. "_Look,"_ she said in Antivan again_, "He may have tried to kill me, but he's saved my life a score of times since he joined up with us. I trust him, but I have a feeling that there is more that you aren't telling me. What's going on?"_

Braxton looked down at the bar, _"Look,_" he said, "_I can't tell you just now, but watch yourself. And make sure you use the alley entrance, okay? Don't come in the front."_

Something was up, but Eriana wasn't going to press it. He was too good of a friend to risk angering him, and they didn't have enough friends in the city to risk pissing one off. "I got it. I'll see you later then," she said finishing the rest of her drink and giving him a quick hug. "Let's go Alistair."

Once they were outside, Eriana sent Alistair and Leliana back to the camp to retrieve the others while she and Zevran waited in the market. "I have something for you, my Warden," Zevran said once the two had finished purchasing supplies and had sat down to rest in the shade of the Chantry, "It is an Orlesian delicacy called chocolat."

Eriana hesitantly took one of the small brown squares and took a bite. "Oh, sweet Maker, this is divine," she said, eating the rest of it and reaching for another. Zevran laughed as he helped himself to a piece of the candy. "It's a wonder Leliana ever left. I don't think I'd ever abandon a country that could produce something so amazing."

"Well, Fereldan has its charms," said Zevran, running his hand down her arm. "I mean, it produced you, no?"

She grinned up at him, about to reply when a young boy ran up to them. "I have a message for you my lady."

Eriana was startled, "For me? Who is it from?" But the young boy scurried off and disappeared into the crowd. Eriana turned the sealed letter over and examined the seal on the other side. It was an image of a flower embossed in wax, a familiar flower. Instinctively, her hand went up to the chain around her neck where she wore the coin that Zevran had given her months ago. It has the same flower printed on it. She showed the seal to Zevran who cursed softly in Antivan.

"Ignacio," he murmured, looking suddenly pale.

"A Crow?" Eriana asked tentatively.

Zevran nodded, "A master, but not my own." Zevran tore open the letter, reading its contents quickly before handing it to Eriana. "He requests an audience with you in the tavern."

"With me? So that's what Braxton was so jumpy about." Eriana glanced over at Zevran, "Could this be a trap?"

"I doubt it. Ignacio does not hold the contract for you, therefore he would gain nothing through your death; he would just anger another master."

Eriana began to twist the ring on her finger, her old nervous habit. "Could he be after you?" Zevran shrugged. "It would be unwise to ignore this," she said with a sigh, "I'll go talk to him, see what he wants." She moved to stand up, but Zevran was quickly on his feet beside her. She shook her head, "No, you are not going with me. There's no way I'm alerting them to your presence. It's me he wants to see, not you."

Zevran's hand was firm on her arm. "Do you honestly think he is ignorant to my presence with you? Come now, my dear, be sensible. He already knows that I am here; to go in thinking anything else would be foolish. You are not going in there alone, and you are not leaving me behind."

"Zevran," she said sternly.

"Don't Zevran me. He would not contact you if he did not want something from you. If he wanted to kill you or me, believe me, we would already be dead. You do not become a master of the Antivan Crows without being good. There is something he wants from you, and you are not finding out without me."

Eriana sighed. There was no keeping him back once his mind was made up; she just hoped that she wasn't putting him into unnecessary danger by bringing back into such close proximity to the Crows. Part of her wanted to run, to leave Denerim and never return, but the sensible side of her agreed with Zevran. This Ignacio obviously wanted something from her; why else would he have bothered to make contact. Perhaps she could use this to help them both. Taking Zevran's arm, together they moved through the market, back to the tavern.

* * *

"Ah, my dear Eriana Tabris, truly it has been too long. You have grown into quite a Fereldan beauty," Master Ignacio said with a suave Antivan accent as the pair entered his rooms.

Eriana stiffened a bit at the use of her full name, "You say that as if we have met before, ser."

Ignacio smiled knowingly, "Ah, but of course you would not remember. You were quiet distracted when we first met. It was, after all, your mother's funeral."

Eriana's eyes narrowed, "You were at my mother's funeral, why?"

"Because she was an old associate of mine; quite a shame, too. She was an exquisite assassin, you know."

"No, I didn't. My mother was an assassin? Was she a Crow?" Ignacio nodded.

Eriana was floored. Zevran was right; her mother had been a Crow. Everything started to make sense to her suddenly. No wonder she fought like a Crow; her mother had trained her as she had been trained by the assassins. She suddenly wondered if her mother had been killed by bandits at all. She felt Zevran's hand lightly touch her arm, bringing her back to the present. Questions can wait till later, she reminded herself. She had business to attend to now.

Ignacio was talking, "But now is not the time to reminisce. I know little of what happened to her after she fled Antiva; your bartender friend would know better. But for now you are here about my note, yes? Maybe we have some things we can talk about, then."

"Let's just make sure the conversation stays civil," Zevran said. "If this is a trap.."

But Ignacio cut him off in a dismissive way, "Ah, yes, Zevran. You are Taliesin's responsibility. Others may try to kill you, but in my eyes, you are already dead. You are unimportant, but the Warden here, she is of great interest to me." Eriana felt Zevran stiffen beside her, she wasn't sure she liked where the conversation was headed either.

"Why would I interest you?" Eriana aked.

"Fereldan is a busy place, Blight, civil war, other mayhem. Lots of people," Ignacio smiled, "not getting along. Sometimes they really don't get along; sometimes they want to do something about it. The people who handle this sort of thing can get very busy."

"And that's where I come in?"

Ignacio smiled and gave a slight nod. "It is hard to find good help in this line of work," he said, glancing over at Zevran for a moment. "When someone has crossed out path and lived…well, maybe they could help out. Make some coin. Everyone wins, no?"

Eriana crossed her arms, "But you were hired to kill me, why should I trust you?"

Ignacio nodded, "I could see your hesitation, but let me make it clear to you. I was not hired to do anything; an associate of mine was, and he has failed." He glanced at Zevran, disgust evident in his face, "failed miserably."

Zevran scoffed, "I'd like to see you do any better."

"You take me for a fool! That is a contract I would never take. The client can always hire more help if the job isn't done the first time, but I'm hoping to make sure that doesn't happen."

Eriana glanced over at Zevran. "It's true," he said. "I have only heard of one instance where the entire House of Crows was hired to do a job; an entire noble family was killed in the process. What he says is true, it is generally one master one job."

"So if I help you, can I get you assurance? No more trouble from the Crows. No one else comes after me."

Ignacio shook his head, "That I cannot do. One master already has a contract out on you. Maybe if you help us, when that master asks for help, all he gets is silence."

Eriana twisted her ring for a moment and glanced at Zevran who merely shrugged. "Okay, I'll do it," she said, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. Deep inside she hoped that this would garner them some added protection, that she wasn't walking blindly into a trap.

* * *

Careful not to wake Zevran, Eriana slipped from their room and down the stairs to the small kitchen of the tavern. She knew the bar would be closing soon, so she would get a chance to speak with Braxton alone. Ever since they left Ignacio's room, Eriana had been mulling over the revelation about her mother. Zevran had once suggested that her mother was a Crow, but Eriana had never given the thought much credence; it had just seemed too farfetched. She tried to imagine her mother slinking through shadows, stalking some unsuspecting victim, but she couldn't. All she saw when she imagined her mother was her standing over the stove, dancing with her father, or coaching her with the practice daggers. She needed to talk to Braxton. Quietly, she opened the door to find Braxton already waiting for her.

"Somehow I knew you'd be coming down tonight," he said, handing her a tankard of ale. "So you spoke with Ignacio then?" Eriana nodded. "Then I guess you're curious about your mother."

"Are you a Crow, too, Braxton?" Eriana asked hesitantly.

"No, I am just a contact. I was moving here from Antiva to work for the Crows here when your mother chose to escape from Antiva. She was known as Danella then, but she was not a typical Crow, you see. She was an infiltrator, a bard more or less. The Crows often used her to scout out some of the more high profile marks; rarely was she called on to actually kill. She would provide access to their homes and pass on information to those who would actually go in and do the job. It seems that she was given a contract that she refused to carry out, so she asked to accompany me to Fereldan."

Braxton sat back and took a drink before he continued. "I smuggled her onto a ship bound for Highever and intended to hide her in the ailenage there; when we arrived, the elder agreed to help us, but he was afraid of the ramifications should the Crows discover that he was harboring her there. He had an idea that would allow her to move into Denerim without suspicion. A young tailor in the ailenage had recently lost his wife in childbirth. He was going to move his young family to Denerim because the ailenage here was in need of a tailor."

"My father?" Eriana asked. Braxton nodded.

"Cyrion agreed to take your mother in. Once they arrived in Denerim, everyone in the ailenage simply assumed that she was his wife and the child's mother, Alissa. She cut and dyed her blond hair and quickly lost the Antivan accent so she wouldn't stand out."

Eriana was stunned, "So my brother wasn't really my brother then?"

"He was your half brother. Your parents did come to love each other, and you mother loved your brother, too. She was happy with her life here." Braxton smiled, "She once told me that leaving the Crows was the best thing she ever did."

"But eventually, they found her, right? Ignacio said he was at her funeral."

"Yes, Ignacio was coordinating the Crows in Fereldan at the time your mother was killed. He did not order her death, but the Crows did discover her eventually. You can't hide from the Crows forever."

"But how, how did they find her?"

Braxton shrugged, "The Crows have eyes and ears everywhere; it was only a matter of time, she knew that. Your father never knew the truth of her past; all he knew was that she was escaping from some trouble and needed to hide." He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, "She didn't tell you because it was safer that way. If they thought your father or you knew of her past, they would have probably killed you on principle. Ignacio was probably there to assess just how much you knew."

Eriana sighed, her head in her hands. "I'll never be free of them, will I? I will always be looking over my shoulder, wondering if there is someone in the shadows waiting for me."

"Especially if you stay with that Crow of yours," he said, lifting her chin to look in her eyes. "They don't let their assassins go, Ana; I'm sure he's told you as much." She nodded. "So long as you know this; the longer you are with him, the more danger you are in."

"He wouldn't hurt me, Braxton; he won't betray me."

Braxton kissed her gently on the forehead. "It's not him you have to worry about."

* * *

Zevran lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. He knew that Eriana would want to talk to her bartender friend; after learning about her mother, how could she not want to. She was predictable, his lovely Warden, so he waited for her to steal from their bed and disappear into the hallway. He waited a few moments before he pulled on his cloak and disappeared out of the door and headed for the rooms at the front of the tavern. He needed to talk to Ignacio, that much was certain. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door to Ignacio's quarters. He was greeted by one of his body guards and shown into the back room where Ignacio was waiting for him. "Ah, Zevran, I am not surprised to see you; do come in."

"Cut the pleasantries, Ignacio, what is your angle here?" Zevran asked as he entered the room. "I find it hard to believe that the Crows would so easily give up on a contract taken out by the would-be king of Fereldan."

Ignacio smiled, "Perhaps we simply believe that it is in our best interest to keep the country in turmoil; civil war is good for business after all. Or perhaps we see the winds of change coming and wish to find ourselves on the winning side. Whatever the reason it should be little concern of yours, whoreson. What should concern you is that pretty little Warden of yours."

Zevran lifted an eyebrow at this, "Oh, and here I thought you were a man of your word. Did you not tell her the Crows would back off if she agreed to help?"

Ignacio laughed, "You doubt my integrity, then. No doubt, for you are a man of little integrity, after all. Rest assured, your Warden has nothing to fear from me. Should she help, the Crows will take out no new contracts on her and old ones may be met with silence. You, however, may bring danger on her yourself."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, Zevran, I don't mean to suggest that you would hurt her. It is apparent that you have gone far too soft for that." Zevren bristled at the implication, knowing full well it was true. "But what will you do when the Crows come for you, when Taliesin decides the collect. You do remember Taliesin, don't you, Zevran. If I remember correctly, you two were quiet close, yes? You share a…history with women."

"I can handle Taliesin," said Zevran, "but what will happen after that?"

"Should Taliesin fail then the Crows put an open price on your head. Any Crow who wants can come after you once that happens. The more who fail, the higher the price gets. It may take some time, but eventually we will get you, you and anyone who happens to be with you."

Zevran glared at him, "Are you threatening her?"

Ignacio shook his head, "It is the simple fact of the matter. As long as you are with her, you bring her danger. Right now with the blight and the trouble in the nation you may be just fine, but once things settle down, they will come for you. You have been a Crow long enough to know this. You won't be able to protect her from everything."

"So why don't you just kill me now, save the Crows the trouble?"

"Because you are not worth my efforts, whoreson. You are dead to me. Taliesin must deal with you first." Ignacio waved his hand at Zevran as he turned to leave. Ignacio stopped his as he reached the door. "You have always had a weak heart, Zevran, that much is obvious. Pray that it does not cost another her life."

Zevran lay in bed, waiting for Eriana to return, Ignacio's parting words echoing through his mind. Pray that your weakness doesn't cost another her life. In his weakness, he had fallen for Rinna, and it was his weakness and arrogance that killed her. He had allowed Taliesin to kill one lover, could he bear to watch him kill another. Zevran closed his eyes, trying hard not to imagine the picture that was running through it. Eriana lying at Taliesin's feet, her deep blue eyes glistening with tears, begging Zevran for mercy as his associate slit her throat. The image made his stomach turn. He could not lose another to the treachery of the Crows, but Ignacio was right. Whether it was Taliesin or someone else, the Crows would come for him eventually. How could he protect her from them? From his own weakness?

Out in the hall, Zevran heard her light footsteps as they approached the door. Zevran swallowed the lump in his throat. Quietly she opened the door and moved gracefully into the room. Zevran waited to feel her slip back into the bed, but she never came. Instead he found her sitting before the hearth, staring silently into the dying fire, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Grabbing a blanket from the bed, Zevran moved beside her, covering her narrow shoulders with and pulling her shivering body close to him.

"My dear Warden," he said, drawing her back to look into her face, "there is something you should know about me, about my final mission." Zevran began to tell her about Rinna, how he fell for her, how he believed she had betrayed them, how he let Taliesin kill her. "You see, I came to Fereldan not seeking fame and glory or even freedom from the Crows. I came to Fereldan seeking my death, and what better way to go than at the hands of the fabled Grey Wardens. How was I to know that you would spare me?"

"Do you still wish your death, Zevran?" Eriana asked, looking up at him tentatively.

"No, my dear, what I want is to begin again. Whatever it was I sought by leaving Antivia, I think that I have found it here. It seems that joining you on this quest has given me purpose, something to live for once again," he said, pulling her more tightly to him. "I owe you a great deal, my Warden." Much to his surprise, his response made her begin to cry. He had only seen her cry once and that was in the deep roads when she was exhausted and plagued by nightmares. Seeing her break down and cry startled him; weakness and tears were not her thing. She was usually so strong. "What is it, Ana?"

"Twenty years," she said softly to him. "My mother tried to begin again. She hid from the Crows for twenty years and they still managed to find her. She was living in the alienage, bringing no attention to herself, and they still found her." She looked up at Zevran with fear in her eyes, "Do you remember the oath that you made to me when I spared you?" Zevran nodded. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath like she was settling herself. "I release you from your oath, Zevran. You are free do to as you choose."

Zevran was stunned, was she sending him away? Why? Was what he told her about Rinna too much for her to handle? He pulled back and looked down at her. "You wish me to leave, then?"

Eriana shook her head desperately, "No, oh no Zev, not at all. It's just. Look, the Crows hunted my mother for twenty years because she refused a mission and ran away. They will be more desperate to find you, I'm sure of it. And if you stay with me, they will know where to find you. If Alistair becomes King, then I will be the only Warden in all of Fereldan; it will be easy to find me." She looked deep into his eyes. "I don't want you staying with me and putting yourself in danger because of some oath that ties you to me. And whether it's the Crows or darkspawn or something else, it seems my fate to be always fighting for my life, and I refuse to force that on you."

Zevran was shocked. She was worried for his safety, not her own. He had never known this kind of devotion before, the idea that someone would place his safety before their own was completely foreign to Zevran. "My warden, are you afraid that my staying with you would endanger me?" Eriana nodded. "Are you not afraid of the danger I may bring to you, that my mere presence may bring the entire House of Crows down around your head?"

"No, of course not, I…" and that was all Zevran needed to hear. Without reservation, he pulled her close, claiming her mouth with a passionate kiss, a new and unfamiliar feeling washing over him. She cared for him, cared enough to risk danger to be with him, enough to release him so that he could be safe. She was willing to let him go so that he would be safe. Would he be able to do the same in return? Could he leave her if it meant saving her? Was he strong enough for that? He looked down at the elven woman in his arms.

"My dear, as long as you are willing to have me, I am your man; without reservation, even unto my own death. This I swore to you before I even knew you, and now that I do," he ran his hand down her cheek, "how can you imagine that that would change?"

Eriana smiled up at him, "You are my man, Zevran so long as that is what you choose to be not because of an oath. And I will face whatever the Crows throw at us. I mean, I'm chasing down a giant sentient darkspawn dragon, what are a couple of assassins, right?"

Zevran gathered his arms and carried her to the bed, "Right my lovely. Now, what do you say we take advantage of this actual bed and actual privacy while we still have access to it, no?"


	25. Eriana and Zevran 25

"I can't believe that gold-digging shrew of a woman is my sister," Alistair fumed. It had taken Eraian a few days to finally get him to open up and talk about his sister, and while she was happy he finally decided to vent his feelings, She wished it had happened at a different time. They were working their way through the forest and the conversation was making it harder for her to focus on tracking the Dalish. "I mean, is that really the family I've been waiting for all this time?"

Eriana sighed, and put a hand on his arm, "I know this is a hard lesson to learn, Alistair, but since you're going to be the king it's good that you learned it now. Most people are really only out for themselves, and I'm sorry you had to learn this the hard way, but as king, it would be good for you to remember that. When people come to you and ask you for things, remember that most of them have a selfish agenda, you know, personal interests they're looking out for."

Alistair glanced down at her, "Does that include you?"

"Nah, I'm a Grey Warden. There's nothing selfish about us, right? Sacrifice of self for the greater good yada yada yada," she said with a grin. "You need to think about yourself and do what's best for you sometimes, too, Alistair."

He sighed, "I just wanted so much more, you know? I wanted a family, someone who would accept me."

Eriana was silent for a while, trying to imagine what Alistair was going through. She had never known what it was like to fell like she didn't belong; everybody belonged in the ailenage. She had never experienced the loneliness and rejection that many of her companions experienced, and she was suddenly grateful for having lived in such a close-knit community. "Alistair, do you remember what you said at my Joining?" He glanced down at her, confused. "Repeat what you said at the beginning of the ritual."

"Join us brothers and sisters…"

"Yes, that," she said, "join us brothers and _sisters_. The Grey Wardens are a family, right. We do what a family does; whenever someone is chosen to join our ranks, we accept any and everyone without prejudice. We don't reject people; we make them brothers and sisters. You and Goldanna may share a mother, but you and I share the same blood, the same drive, the same destiny. You don't need her to have a family; you have a family right here. You called me sister the day I joined the Wardens, so that makes you my big brother, right?"

Alistair smiled down at her, "I guess you're right. In a way, you are more family that she could ever be." He rubbed the top of her head with his knuckles in a very brotherly way. "So since I'm your big brother now, I feel that it's my brotherly responsibility to talk to you about your taste in men."

"And as your little sister, I'm going to tell you to hump a nug and mind your own business," she said with a laugh.

Alistair laughed, "Hey, you're the one who made me your brother, now." He threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a quick hug, "I'm just doing what any big brother would do, looking out for you."

"Hey now, cut that out," Zevran shouted from behind them.

"Don't be jealous," Alistair shouted back. "It's just a little brotherly love."

"Yeah, and I'm just a tall, skinny, hairless dwarf," Zevran muttered, causing Eriana to burst out laughing.

"Ah, one big happy family," said Eriana.

"Just stop right there," a voice rang through the forest as a group of armed elves appeared in front of them, weapons drawn, looking very unhappy to see them.

"I think we've found the Dalish," Alistair muttered.

* * *

"You know, they could at least pretend to be grateful to us for helping; they don't have to be so arrogant and rude," Eriana muttered as they made their way through Brecilian Forrest. Zevran felt bad for her; she had been so excited about meeting the Dalish Elves, but the experience had been far from pleasant for her. The other elves seemed to recognize his Dalish heritage because they were more polite and accommodating to him, but they were not interested in Eriana at all. Several of them were down-right rude to her face. "If another one of those nughumpers calls me flat ears or says I smell like a shem, I might just let the werewolves have them." She sighed, "I wonder if they would help us against the Blight."

Zevran laughed, "You don't mean that. Think of the fleas. This land already smells of wet dog, you know; that would only make it worse, I'm afraid." Zevran tried to lighten her mood, but he knew that the guards who called her flat ears had struck a nerve with her; he had heard her complain about the smaller shape of her ears before, and he knew it always bothered her. Having the Dalish point it our irked him because he knew how much it annoyed her.

"And for once, I'd like to show up somewhere and have someone say 'You need us to honor our treaties? Of course we will. We'll join you today.' But no, everyone has a favor to ask, a problem I have to solve. Andraste's flaming knickers, why can't anything be easy?"

Ogren laughed behind them, "If it was easy it wouldn't be interesting, kiddo. You have a knack for solving people's problems, you know."

Eriana rolled her eyes, just before Sten spoke up. "The dwarf speaks the truth, Kadan. You have done many things to help us as well as those you recruit. Trouble does seem to find you."

"Just a point of curiosity, Eriana, did you leave all the humans back at the Dalish camp on purpose, just to annoy the Dalish?" Zevran asked.

Eriana laughed, "To tell you the truth, I didn't even realize I had done that, but I wish I had thought of it. It will probably do them good to spend time with some decent humans; they may see that they're not all that bad. And that they don't smell nearly as bad as they seem to think. Humans smell a lot better than it does out here. All I smell out here is halla piss and bear dung. Come on, we need to find a way around that barrier."

The small party managed to maneuver relatively unnoticed through the forest, encountering a few darkspawn and werewolves. They were headed for the barrier, equipped with a special stick from a rhyming oak tree, when the werewolves decided to attack with full force. Eriana dropped back, raining down arrows on them from a distance as Sten and Ogren attacked the beasts head on. Zevran moved through the shadows, attacking from the edges of the melee, keeping an eye both on the enemies before him and Eriana behind him, but he forgot to watch his own flank. He was about to move in on a particularly large werewolf when he heard Eriana shout his name, only to find himself pinned beneath a large brown mass of fur.

* * *

As soon as the werewolves attacked, Eriana silently cursed herself for allowing Wynne to remain at camp helping the elves. Carefully, she dropped back and started firing arrows down into the fray, carefully avoiding the men engaged in melee combat with the monsters. They were beginning to thin out the attacking beasts when she noticed a wolf coming out of the bushes behind Zevran. She immediately screamed his name and began firing at it, but it was too late. The wolf was on top of him in a matter of seconds, clawing and biting him. Without a second thought, she dropped her bow and quickly closed the distance them and drove her daggers deep into the wolf's back. It howled in pain as it lashed back at her, forcing her to roll away. Quickly she got to her feet and drew her sword. Iron crossed iron as the as she brought the blades across her body. Spinning around, she knocked the wolf to the ground and plunged her sword into its chest. When the wolf was still at her feet, Eriana ran back to Zevran's side as Sten and Ogren finished off the last of the werewolves. Relief coursed through her when she found that he was breathing and awake. She helped him to slowly sit up and watched as he drank one of Wynne's health potions, the color slowly returning to his face.

"I'm so sorry Zev," Eriana said. "I should have been paying better attention; he got up behind you before I even realized he was there."

Zevran smiled weakly up at her, "Ah, my dear, those lovely eyes cannot focus on everything at once. I should have been paying more attention to my flanks, no?"

"Are you going to be okay, Zev?" Eriana asked as she helped him to his feet.

"Ah yes, I should be just fine. No more than a few cuts and bruises. Nothing to worry about."

Eriana smiled and gave him a quick kiss before going to retrieve her things. As she went to retrieve her sword, the wolf at her feet suddenly lunged at her, sinking his large teeth deep into the exposed skin around her throat. She felt his claws rip through the skin on her arms as his weight propelled them both backward into the ground. Her head slammed against the hard ground and the world around her went black.

* * *

Zevran wasn't sure just how long it took them to get back to the Dalish camp, but it felt like it took them days. He felt completely helpless as Sten carried his unconscious Warden back to the camp. The three of them had managed to stop most of her bleeding, but she needed a mages touch and fast. The moment they entered camp, Wynne and Zathrian, the Dalish Keeper began to work on the injured Warden. Slowly, Eriana began to come around, and that was when Zevran truly got scared.

"It burns, Wynne," Eriana moaned as soon as she started to come to. "Please, oh please, make it stop."

"What burns, child? Where are you hurting?" Wynne asked, patiently.

"Everywhere. If feels like there's fire moving through me. Make it stop."

"She is infected," a stern voice said from above them, and they all turned to look at Sten. "She was bitten by one of those things and has been infected with the curse."

After examining her wounds, Zathrian and Wynne confirmed Sten's suspicions; Eriana was indeed infected with the disease that was plaguing the Dalish. Turning to Alistair, Zathrian explained, "She has the curse in her blood now, and it will eventually turn her into a werewolf unless you can bring me the heart of Witherfang. There is nothing that I can do for her, now. Our fate is now her fate."

On hearing this news, Zevran sank down to the ground beside Eriana and began gently stroking her forehead. This was his fault. If she hadn't been so keen to check on him, she would have made sure the wolf was completely dead, and if he would have watched his flank better that cursed wolf would have never gotten near them in the first place. He had brought harm on another woman he cared for; it seemed his destiny in live to hurt those who cared for him. Now, because of him, her destiny was now the same as those of the elves whom she despised so much.

Alistair sighed, turning to Zevran who was still sitting beside the injured elf. "We will save her, Zev, I promise." Zevran didn't say anything; he didn't quite trust his own voice to stay calm, he was too wracked with emotion. His heart was in his stomach as the imagined his beautiful Warden transformed into one of those monsters.

"Zevran," he heard her whisper, and he leaned in close to her, "You have to go with them."

"No, I am not leaving you like this."

"Morrigan and Leliana will take care of me. You know where to go; there's no way Ogren can lead them through the woods quickly enough, the trees all look alike to him, you know. And take Wynne with you too; you will need a healer."

"No, I will not leave you."

She brought her hand up and lightly traced the tattoos on his cheek, "You can't help me here, Zev. You have to guide them; please, it's the only way. They'll never find it without you."

Zevran nodded; he knew she was right. There was nothing he could do but sit and watch her suffer; at least if he was out there, he was doing something to help her. Summoning all the fortitude he could muster, Zevran slowly leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead before he got up to leave. As he lead the group away, Zevran looked back one more time, praying to the Maker that he would be quick enough to save her. As quickly as he could, Zevran lead the small group back through the woods to the barrier. Now all they had left to do was face down a pack of angry werewolves.

It was a grueling task, fighting their way through the ruined temple that the werewolves had barricaded themselves in. The temple itself was full of spiders, walking corpses, and other abominations, but Zevran and Alistair pushed the group through with a single-minded resolve. There would be time to explore later, after a cure had been found. Once they finally made their way into the werewolves lair, however, things became a bit more complicated. The werewolves were indeed infected with a curse, there was no questioning that, but the fact that the clan's Keeper, Zathrian, was the source of the curse shocked Zevran. It seems that he Keeper had cursed the humans years ago, turning them into these beasts, as punishment for murdering his children. Zathrian's hate and need for revenge was bringing suffering on his own people now. The Lady of the Forrest, a strange spirit who seemed to lead the wolves, pleaded with Alistair to bring Zathrian to her so they could negotiate an end to the curse or she would never summon Witherfang, and all the elves, Eriana included, would either die or be turned. Alistair agreed to find the Keeper and bring him in to see if the two could work something out.

As they walked back into the ruin, Zevran nudged Alistair, "You do realize that thing is probably Witherfang, right?"

"What! Why would you think that?"

"Witherfang is the leader of the werewolves, no? She is the leader of the werewolves. She must become Witherfang if we are to get her heart." Zevran was quiet for a moment, "What do you plan to do is Zathrian is unwilling to lift the curse? Do you kill the wolves, force him to compromise?"

"I honestly don't know, Zevran. We have to have a cure, that much is certain." Alistair sighed, "I wish Eriana was here."

Zevran did too.

* * *

Every inch of her body was aching. Every movement, every breath sent waves of pain shooting through her body. She was both burning alive and freezing at the same time, as wave upon wave of nausea swept over her. Morrigan had tried to keep her asleep for most of the day by casting sleeping spells on her, but the pain and incessant shaking was keeping her awake. Leliana tried to get her to eat, but she flung the bowl of soup across the camp, feelings of anger and frustration coursing through her. The physical pain was bad enough, but the fury and anger that were surging through her were nearly unbearable.

As the day progressed, Eriana could feel her condition worsen. The burning of the curse flowed constantly through her, causing her to ache constantly, and feelings of hate and anger started to overwhelm her. The only thing that seemed to help keep her grounded was Zevran. Even though he was gone, Eriana felt his presence, and it helped keep her from becoming completely overwhelmed by the anger and hate that was coursing through her. Then, just as the sun began to set, she felt her mind begin to clear and the fire recede from her limbs. Slowly, she sat up to see the injured elves around her doing the same.

"Oh thank the Maker!" Eriana heard an excited squeal just before a blur of red hair ran up to her and wrapped her up in a massive hug. "You're okay and awake and okay."

"And suffocating," Eriana said as she extracted herself from Leliana's embrace. The bard had tears in her eyes as she frantically examined the small elf. Eriana glanced around, expecting to find Alistair or Zevran standing nearby. "Are they not back yet? What happened?"

Leliana shrugged, "I don't know. All of a sudden, everyone just started waking up. Does that mean the curse is broken, like, forever broken?" she asked, looking up at Morrigan and the Dalish healers.

"Tis the likely assumption that the templar actually managed to do something right," Morrigan said with a smile.

"How do you feel, any pain?" Leliana asked.

"I'm good, just really tired," Eriana said, glancing back to the entrance to the forrest.

"Tired," said Shale as she walked up to them, "How could it possibly be tired? Did it not sleep all day? Sigh, I will never understand you squishy, fleshy things."

"Thanks for the concern Shale," said Eriana.

"Get some rest," Leliana said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, "I can wait up for the others." Eriana started to protest, but she was simply too exhausted, so she curled up on the cot and drifted off.

Eriana woke up only once before morning. Sometime after sunset, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her and gently lifted her from the cot she had been sleeping on. The warm, musky smell of leather and spices surrounded her as she snuggled up against Zevran's armor as he carried her into an aravel. Gently he laid her down on a bed and climbed in beside her, drawing her close to him. She sighed as he ran his hand up and down her arm. "I knew you could do it, Zev," she whispered into his ear.

"Well, as much as I enjoy scratching and the biting, I couldn't very well have you transforming into a wolf, now could I."

"Um, you're right, that could have been very bad," she said with a quiet laugh before drifting back to sleep listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

The early lights of dawn woke Eriana up the next morning. She looked down at Zevran as he lay peacefully beside her. It wasn't often that she got to see him like this, resting, at peace, and worry free. For a moment it was almost as though all the hurt he had suffered through his life had just melted away; he seemed almost innocent as he lay there beside her, the sunlight illuminating the gold in hair. She sighed, he was so beautiful lying there asleep beside her, and she realized, quite suddenly, that she had fallen in love with him. The feeling was no real surprise to her; she had been either ignoring or denying her true feelings for so long, so afraid that she would get burned if she ever admitted how she felt. She wondered for a moment what had changed; then she remembered the look in Zevran's eyes as he left her to go after the werewolves, the fear and worry that he wasn't able to hide. He cared for her; that much was now evident to her. Even if he never said it, she saw it in his eyes as he left her, a part of him loved her too. She smiled to herself as she crept out of the aravel to find something to eat.

Wynne was already up, sitting by the fire, nursing a steaming cup of herbal tea. "Good morning, child," she said, handing Eriana a cup of steaming tea. "Do you feel better this morning? I wasn't able to examine you when we returned."

"Right as rain. So what happened anyway? One second I was writhing in pain and the next I was fine."

"We made a deal. Zathrian and Witherfang sacrificed themselves to end the curse. It actually turned the werewolves back into humans." Eriana nodded her approval; Alistair had done well. Wynne sighed as she walked over to Eriana. "I'm afraid you will have a new scar here where that wolf got a hold of you," she said, examining the bite marks on the elven woman's neck.

Eriana glanced down at her shoulder, "Yeah so what else is new? I have a werewolf bite on my neck, scratches from Flemeth's tail across my back, and countless arrow and sword wounds. I should get Zevran to start tattooing them so I can keep them all straight." She said with a laugh.

Wynne smiled and looked down at the young woman, "About Zevran, I have watched you two for some time, and perhaps I was wrong to chide you so when we first met. There seems to be something special between the two of you." Eriana glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. "His demeanor changes when he's with you. There is a tenderness to his gaze I've never seen till now."

Eriana smiled, "It's always been there Wynne; you just have to know how to look for it."

Wynne chuckled, "Or perhaps he just let you see it. I know I was harsh in my judgment of you before, and I am sorry."

"Thank you Wynne, that means a lot."

"I was just afraid for you. What you have may not last. Death and duty may part you, but love's worthiness is not diminished because of that. I should have seen that. Instead you learn to cherish each and every moment you have, knowing that each one may be your last."

Eriana glanced back at the aravel where Zevran was still sleeping. "The same could be said for any relationship, you know, Wynne. I guess it is merely more real to us with the blight and the Crows are bearing down on us in such a real way." She turned back to Wynne. "He has had nothing certain in his life, Wynne, and it just breaks my heart to know that. There has been no one that he could count on with any certainty. Can you blame him for being closed off to others?"

"I suppose I never really looked at it that way. I guess his arrogance had me fooled as well. For what it's worth, I think you two have been good for each other. You seem to give him a new purpose while he seems to give you peace amid all this turmoil. And for those of us who are watching, well, it brings joy to these old bones to see you so happy. Though, I can't say the same for your fellow Warden, but he may come around eventually."

Eriana smiled, feeling suddenly warm and content inside. They spent a few days with the Dalish, working out the terms of treaties and exploring the rest of the ruined temple. Their final night culminated in a celebration around the communal fire in the middle of the camp. The Dalish and Leliana told stories and sang songs. Eriana wondered if these elves realized how similar they were to their city-born relatives because as she watched the Dalish celebrate the end of the curse, Eriana couldn't help remembering the festivals in the ailenage and noting how similar the two were. As the evening was winding down, everyone was gathered around the campfire listening to one of Leliana's stories. Eriana was sitting in front of Zevran, an arm wrapped around his leg, her head resting on his knee as he ran his fingers gently through her hair. A melancholy feeling swept over Eriana, and she stealthily slipped away from the campfire. Zevran found her a short time later at the halla enclosure, watching as one of the elegant animals gently nudged its sleeping mate before lying down beside it.

"A copper for your thoughts, mia cara," Zevran said, wrapping his arms around her small waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I was just thinking how peaceful and beautiful it was," she said with a sigh. "It's the calm before the storm. We have all of our allies, now. All we have left to do now is…"

"Fight an archdemon," he finished for her. "I thought you would be happy for this to end. I did not think you enjoyed all this traipsing about."

"I don't, it's just, now we fight the Blight. It's like this is our last moment of peace before the gates of the Black City open on us, one final breath before the plunge." She turned around in his arms to face him. "Zevran, if I asked you, would you take me away, right now, away from all of this."

Zevran smiled, "Of course, my dear. We can leave tonight and find another band of Dalish and travel north with them. We could work as mercenaries in the Waking Sea and leave all this Blight business to Alistair. Perhaps we can go to Orlais and disappear into Val Royeaux."

"Hum, that sounds wonderful," Eriana said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "No Crows, no darkspawn, no assassins, well, one assassin, but that one won't be trying to kill me."

"No, he wouldn't; he would be eternally dedicated to your happiness." He put his forehead against hers. "So, do we go tell them that you quit, or do we merely disappear into the night?"

Eriana took a deep breath and looked up into the starry sky. "If only it were that simple," she said sadly.

"Yes, you and your sense of duty bind you to this." He kissed her gently, "Just remember, I am your man, whether it be here or anywhere else in Thedas. I am yours."

"And I am yours; I just wish I could be wholly yours and not pulled a thousand directions by my duty and responsibilities."

"Perhaps one day," he said as she turned back to the halla enclosure. Together, they stood, listening to the celebrating elves in the distance, watching the stars move slowly across the evening sky.

_

* * *

_

I really wanted Zevran to be the one to get the curse. I guess I'm kind of tired of Eriana being rescued because she isn't weak, but I really wanted this conversation with Wynne in this chapter. I couldn't quite figure out how to work it in if he was the one hurt. Oh, well, such is life and writing, I guess. Hope you enjoy. We head to Denerim next.

_P.S. Please let me know what you think!_


	26. Eriana 26

After taking care of a few errands for Ignacio and the Mages Collective, Eriana was ready to head into Denerim, ready to face the nobility and make Alistair king. When they arrived in Redcliffe, Eamon's staff was busy packing and making perperations for the move to Denerim. The courtyard of the castle was full of knights and dwarfs who were sparing and training. After checking in with Eamon, Eriana and Zevran made their way back into the courtyard. They quickly stole into the shadows along the edge of the training area in order to garner a bit of privacy and evaluate the gathered troops.

Eriana leaned against the wall in one of the shadowy alcoves scattered around the yard. "I've been thinking; it would be smart if we sent some people ahead with part of the household staff tomorrow. It will probably hard to get the nobles to open up once we get to the city ourselves; they may be more chatty before we get there."

Zevran nodded, "That is probably a good idea. Who were you thinking of sending, my dear?"

"Well, Leliana, obviously; we could get her to work in the tavern so she can do her thing and spy on the nobility who come in there." She paused for a moment. "We would need to be discrete, so we couldn't send Sten or Shale. Ogren would be good for security's sake, but he's as discrete as an archdemon." Eriana glanced up at Zevran. "I was kinda hoping that I could convince you to go with her."

Zevran's face suddenly became very serious, "No, absolutely not."

"Why not, Zev; it would only be about a week and a half before I got there. You know how to move around unseen and get information."

"I said no," he said as he leaned over her, his hands on the wall on either side of her head. "And not because I do not want to sleep alone for a week," he said, kissing her lightly on the nose. "I fear what would happen to you were you deprived of my presence because you, my dear Warden, have terrible luck."

"Hey! I do not."

"Hum, let us review, shall we?" he said with a sly smile. "Were you not recently infected with a disease that would have transformed you into a werewolf?"

Eriana sighed, "Yes, but…"

"I am not finished. Before that you were nearly killed by those darkspawn when we were suddenly ambushed in the woods, you were ensnared by a demon in the circle tower, knocked out by Alistair in Orzammar, and you broke your wrist _after_ we finished off Flemeth."

"Okay, that one wasn't my fault," Eriana said defensively. "I lost a lot of blood in that fight and was a bit woozy anyway. Plus, dragon blood is really slippery." She said as she crossed her arms and glared up at him. "But what does my luck have to do with anything? If I recall correctly, you were there for all of those things."

"Yes that much is true, but, as you have said before, I live a charmed life, remember. Good luck seems to follow me wherever I go, no?" he said with a smile. "Perhaps my mere presence has canceled out the worst of your luck. My good fortune has probably kept you alive."

"So if you were to leave…"

"Yes, if I was to leave, the entire darkspawn horde would likely fall upon you just before the ground opened beneath you, dropping you into the deeproads forever," he said with a grin. "Besides, having a bed warmer seems to have stopped most of your bad dreams; surely you don't wish them to return."

"Fine, I'll sent Morrigan with Leliana; I'll just have to make sure she wears something less garish," Eriana conceded.

"Thank you," Zevran said as he moved in closer to her, dropping his hands to her waist and placing a light kiss on her lips. She smiled up at him, looking into his amber-colored eyes. She realized, she had to disagree with him somewhat. Standing there securely in his arms, the taste of honey and spices on her lips, she couldn't imagine that she was the unlucky one. Fortune had truly smiled on her when it brought Zevran into her life.

The two elves stood there in each other's arms, hidden in the shadows of the courtyard for some time while the soldiers continued their training around them. Two of the Redcliff knights stopped in front of them, watching as a few pairs of knights worked in the sparring ring. "Hey, did you get a look at the Grey Wardens when they got here today?" said one of the knights, a tall man with short, dark hair.

"Yeah," his lighter haired companion answered, "especially that pretty little elf; man I'd like to serve under her, or over her, or behind her," he said with a lusty laugh. Eriana rolled her eyes and felt Zevran stiffen beneath her hands, and she looked up to see his jaw clinch, his eyes narrow angrily.

"Ha ha, I know what you mean. Did you get a look at the tail of that chick; man, I'd follow that thing all over Fereldan. I mean the way those hips swayed as she walked up the steps, I can see why she has all those men following her." Zevran's hands moved to his daggers, but Eriana held on to his arms and just shook her head. They needed these troops to fight darkspawn, and this simply wasn't worth it.

The light haired knight was talking again, "But the other Warden, I heard that he was Maric's bastard, and you know how the king felt about elven sluts." Eriana herself stiffened at that, but kept a firm grip on Zevran's arms. The assassin was taking deep breaths and was clearly getting more and more angry. "I would bet you silvers for sovereigns that he's bedding her just like his old man and his elf."

The dark headed one laughed, "That's probably why he lets her lead; either that or he just enjoys the view from behind. I wonder if his royal highness would be willing to share."

"Even if he wasn't willing, I'm sure she would be. You know how those elves are; they're willing and ready for a big strong human."

Eriana had had enough. Pulling Zevran close to her and whispered in his ear, "Why don't we show them whose elf I truly am?"

Zevran raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"We could give them a sparring demonstration," she said with a wicked grin. "You know, like the demonstration Isabela gave us in the Pearl when she taught me to duel."

"Ah, yes," he said as the anger seemed to melt away. In the last few months, their travel companions had stared joking that their sparring matches seemed more like foreplay than actual training. Eriana had found it amusing; after all, with Zevran, nearly everything was foreplay. But her companions did have a point; their sparring had become almost a very intimate practice in the last few weeks.

Emerging from the shadows, the two elves quickly jumped the enclosure and moved into the sparing ring. "Duel daggers?" Zevran asked as Eriana picked up two training daggers.

She grinned, "What can I say; I want to keep you close."

Gracefully, the pair moved to the center of the ring, sending the knights who were already in the ring toward the edges of the enclosure. For a brief moment, the edges of their sparring blades touched, and then the duo began to move slowly around each other. They started out purposefully slow, stretching their muscles, each one getting a feel for the other. Zevran would lunge forward, and Eriana would spin gracefully out of the way, moving behind him to attack only to have him parry behind his back. Together they moved lithely back and forth across the yard with the grace and beauty of Orlesian dancers, their eyes locked passionately on each other, looking away only when they spun out of the way of their sweeping blades, but never for longer than a few moments. After a few minutes of their slow, sensual, deadly dance, Zevran winked at her, and the sparing truly began. They held nothing back, matching each other blow for blow and blocking every move the other made. After months of sparring, the two moved as a single unit, each aware of the other's tricks and moves. Around them, the mouths of the knights fell as they watched the elves fight, their blades cutting through the air so quickly that they became blurs in the air around them moving like hummingbird wings. She could feel her desire for him growing, and judging by the hungry look in his eye, so did his. The fight continued on for several minutes until Zevran made a small mistake, a missed step, and Eriana capitalized, sending him tumbling to the ground. He cursed softly as she perched on top of him, a broad smile playing across her lips.

Quickly he pulled her down to him, his hot breath caressing her ear, her body pressed against his. "Direct me to the nearest bed before I take you here and now," he growled.

She laughed as she sprang up and pulled him to his feet. The knights around them were still standing in a stunned silence. She flipped the daggers across the sparing yard sticking them into the ground at the feet of the two lewd knights who were both looking very hot and bothered. "Still wondering why they follow me?" Eriana said over her shoulder. She shot the blond knight a smug grin before turning and giving him an eyeful of the rear he had so recently admired as Zevran's arm slipped around her, and he pulled her toward the castle. At the top of the steps, Leliana and Ogren were laughing.

"That was one of the most sensual things I've ever seen," Leliana said. "It's like you were purposefully being provocative."

Ogren laughed, "Have you ever known this one not to be provocative?" he asked, jerking a thumb toward Zevran. "Hehe, look at those guys; they look like they're about to burst into flames."

Eriana grinned, "Well, it served them right."

* * *

Eriana and Zevran spent the rest of the week working with their companions and the Redcliffe knights while Alistair and Eamon prepared for the Landsmeet. Ser Perth had approached her earlier in the week, impressed by what he had seen, and asked her to help train the knights on dealing with rogue fighters. When they complained that her methods were dirty and unfair, Eriana pointed out that they would be fighting in a Bligh not a grand tourney and they shut up. The week had been very productive on all sides, and she was feeling more confident as they prepared to leave. However, Eriana was met with an unpleasant surprise the morning that they left for Denerim.

"Horses?" she said, glancing up nervously at the huge beast in front of her.

Alistair laughed, "Yes, horses. Come on, Eriana, you can't tell me that _you_ are afraid of a horse."

Eriana shot him a dirty look. She almost snapped that not everyone was raised in a stable, but she didn't want to insult Eamon or Alistair. "It's just…well, I've never ridden a horse. I mean, we didn't exactly have horses in the ailenage." She glanced up again at the animal again, biting her bottom lip. "It's just so tall." She looked over at the carriage where Isolde, Wynne, and Ogren would be riding, and decided that there was no way she was riding all the way to Denerim in there.

Zevran wrapped his arms around her, "You can ride with me, mia cara. I happen to be an excellent horseman, and I can only imagine how eight hours with you in my lap would feel."

Eriana rolled her eyes. "Okay, but you better catch me if I start to fall," she said as Zevran helped her up into the saddle.

The trip to Denerim was rather uneventful. There were no darkspawn attacks, no bandits waiting; all told, it was the easiest journey Eriana and her merry band of adventurers had experienced. But something was bothering Eriana. She couldn't get the conversation between the soldiers out of her mind. Frustrated, she decided to talk to Alistair.

"Listen, Alistair. When we get to Denerim, you need to be careful about how you treat me." He glanced down at her, confused. "What I mean is, you need to look like you're the one in charge, not like you're counting on me to make the big decisions."

"But I am," he said with a grin.

"Yes, I know, but it can't appear that way once we get to Denerim. You need to be the king from the moment we enter the city, and the nobility can't see you looking to me to make the decisions for you."

"What would be so bad about that?"

Eriana sighed, "Alistair, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see a Grey Warden, the leader of the Grey, actually."

"Now," she said, "look at me as a noble would."

Alistair looked down at her, confused. "I don't understand. Why would that change anything?"

Eriana huffed and looked over at the Arl, "Eamon, what do you see when you look at me."

Eamon cocked his head, assessing her. "I see an elven woman who is dangerously close to the king. She is beautiful and alluring and is possibly using that to ensnare or manipulate the king. If he is allowing himself to be influenced so easily by her, it shows him a weak leader indeed. If she isn't using him, then he is likely using her. Either way, it is a base and disgraceful arrangement, conduct unbecoming of the King, for sure."

Eriana smiled, "Thank you, Eamon." She glanced back at Alistair, "You see? In public you have to be the king all the time. The nobles can't see you as weak and indecisive or you will never convince them to elect you. In their eyes, I'm a danger; this country's history with elves and their kings is not a good one, you should know this. You can't let it be known how much you defer to me, ever."

"Surely it's not that bad," Alistair said and Eamon just rolled his eyes.

"Trust me, Alistair, I've been an elf all my life. I know how things work. As soon as we enter the gates of that city, you have to exude kingliness."

And Eriana was right. The moment they arrived, they were greeted by a rather hostile Arl Howe and the Regent, Loghain. The encounter went down exactly as Eriana had anticipated. Howe was smug, Loghain was angry, and Eriana was called a churl. Alistair, however, was quite a surprise; he stood up to the older noblemen with confidence and did not appear intimidated by their threats. She was very proud of him; perhaps he would make a descent king after all.

After they got settled into their rooms, Eriana and her companions met with Eamon and Alistair to discuss strategy for the landsmeet. Leliana had returned to the estate with information from her days spent working in the tavern, and she and Zevran were quietly discussing what she had learned at a table by the door. They were discussing their plans when the door was suddenly flung open and everyone sprung into action. Ogren stepped in front of Alistair and Eamon, his double bladed ax in his hands, while Zevran and Leliana quickly drew their daggers. Eriana's bow was pulled taunt, the notched arrow pointed at a small, frightened looking elven woman who had just appeared in the doorway.

"Oh please, you must help me. I come on behalf of Queen Anora; she has been captured by Arl Howe."

Erlina, who claimed to be the Queen's handmaiden, quickly explained her situation, claiming that the Queen was being held prisoner in the Arl's estate and that he would kill her if they didn't rescue her. If she died, the nobles would blame Eamon for her death. Erlina wanted the Wardens to break into the estate and rescue the king by disguising themselves as guards and infiltrating the home. Eriana didn't buy it. The woman seemed too calm, too precise for her liking. She glanced over at her two friends by the door, both still clutching their unsheathed daggers, both glaring at the intruder with suspicion in their eyes. Something about this smelled fishy, Eriana just knew it. Reluctantly, she agreed to help the queen, saying she would meet her in a few hours by the estate.

As the group broke up, Eriana looked at the other two rogues and jerked her head toward her room. Leliana and Zevran followed after her.

"You know this is a trap," Leliana said the moment the door closed behind them. Zevran nodded in agreement.

"Yes, but it's a very good one," Eriana said with a sigh. "There is no way we can risk it. We have to go in after her." She rubbed the side of her head with her hands. "I simply can't see any way around it."

Zevran looked over at her. "Who else are we bringing?"

Eriana raised an eyebrow, "We? You seem so sure that you are going with me."

"Yes, we. You and I, and may I suggest Ogren and one of the mages, just in case."

"Sounds like a plan, Zev." The Arl of Denerim's estate. It had been a very long time since she had been there, and she was not that eager to return any time soon.


	27. Zevran 27

Shadows stalked the streets of Denerim; Zevran could feel them as they stalked him and his friends as they made their way to Howe's estate. It was like a noose tightening around his neck, like vultures swarming. No, not vultures, crows circling. Taliesin was here, close by, stalking his every step. Zevran glanced over at Eriana as they made their way through the empty streets. Now was the moment of truth, the moment where he either broke all ties with the Crows forever or the moment he turned on her. His stomach knotted up as he pictured her battered and broken body at Taliesin's feet. No, he would stand beside her, but to what end? Would the six of them be able to stand against a full Crow assault; should he warn her of the impending danger; would she doubt him? Zevran was glad that they had insisted that Leliana and Morrigan follow them to the Arl's estate, hiding in the shadows, ready to assist should anything happen; but would that be enough to give them the edge they needed? Suddenly, Zevran was worried, but not for his own life. Survive this encounter or not, his life was forfeit; the Crows would eventually find him. No, he was concerned for the woman beside him.

"Zevran," Eriana's soft whisper rang in his ears. He glanced up at her, unable to hide the concern. "What is it? Are you that worried about Howe? We can go back and come up with another plan if you want."

"No, my dear," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "There's an unease in the air; that's all."

Eriana gave him a funny look. "What aren't you telling me Zevran? You're hiding something, I can feel it."

Of course she could; he had become too open, too transparent to hide even the smallest things from her any more. However, he knew she had a lot on her mind, and for some reason, returning to the Arl of Denerim's estate was weighing heavily on her. He didn't want to burden her with any new problems; they could handle whatever the Crows could throw at them. "Nothing to worry about just yet; it's just a feeling, that is all."

They continued moving through the back streets of Denerim; Zevran's hawk-like eyes assessing every shadow, every nook. It was surprising then that it was Eriana who first noticed the well concealed traps. She motioned for Ogren and Wynne to drop back as she and Zevran moved into the shadows to scout the area ahead. Before he could do anything about it, one of the shadows moved on Eriana, pulling her away from him. Looking up, he saw Taliesin standing before him, his dagger pressed against Eriana's throat a sly grin crossing his old friend's face. He pulled her roughly against him, the dagger never leaving her warm skin. Zevran's stomach knotted up as Taliesin looked hungrily down at his Warden. His nightmare was coming true.

"Grey Warden," he purred down at her, "We meet at last. The Crows send their regards once again."

Zevran froze as Ogren and Wynne rushed up beside them. "Now, now, not a step closer," Taliesin said, tightening his grip on the elven woman in his arms. "Let's try to keep this civil, now."

"So they sent you Taliesin," Zevran said trying hard to keep his voice steady, "or did you volunteer for the job?"

Taliesin laughed smugly, "I volunteered of course, when I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Can you honestly blame me, my old friend; just look at her." Zevran said, trying very hard to keep his eyes on Taliesin's face, careful not to look down at Eriana, afraid to see her expression. Here he was, talking casually to the man with a knife at her throat; what would she think? But he had to stall him a bit longer; he had to give Leliana and Morrigan time to move into position.

Taliesin smiled luridly as he looked down at Eriana, "Yes, yes, quite pleasant, I'm sure. I just never thought you would be swayed so much by a pair of big blue eyes, Zevran." Taliesin glanced back at him, "Surely she is not worth throwing away your life's work. You can return with me Zevran, I can't say that I blame you for going rogue," he said as he ran a hand down Eriana's face. Zevran flinched for a moment, but kept looking at Taliesin. "But surely she has ceased to be interesting by now." As he spoke a hawk flew over the clearing calling shrilly, Zevran relaxed a bit, they were in place. "It's not too late; come back and we'll make up a story," he said sympathetically. "Anyone can make a mistake."

"That means she would have to be dead," Ogren pointed out.

"And I'm not about to let that happen," he said, finally allowing himself to look down at Eriana just in time to see a soft hint of a smile in her eyes.

"What? You fool," Taliesin shouted as he jerked Eriana back against him.

"I'm sorry, old friend, you should have stayed in Antiva," Zevran said as he signaled behind his back toward Morrigan. Suddenly, a white light enveloped Taliesin as Morrigan's paralysis spell hit him. Zevran knocked the dagger from the assassin's hand as he pulled Eriana from his grasp.

"Thanks honey," she said with a smile as she drew her weapons. Working back to back, the elves made short work of anyone who advanced on their position. Ogren, full of blood rage, sprinted head-long into the melee, his double-sided ax dismembering and decapitating those too slow to doge it. Morrigan and Leliana, unseen in the shadows took out the perimeter archers who died desperately trying to locate their attackers. Finally, the paralysis spell on Taliesin broke, and Zevran found himself squaring off against his old friend and mentor.

"Are you crazy, you stupid elf," Taliesin spit at Zevran as the two circled each other. "What could this life possibly offer you that you couldn't get with the Crows?"

"You would never understand, old friend; you have been a Crow far too long," Zevran said as he lunged toward him. Taliesin easily parried the blow but was unprepared for Eriana's attack as she appeared behind him, driving her dagger deep into the human's side.

Taliesin gasped, holding his side as he collapsed to the ground. Looking up at Zevran he muttered, "She better be worth it." Then he died.

Zevran immediately took Eriana into his arms and began inspecting her for injuries. There was a thin red line across her neck where Taliesin's dagger had cut the skin. He kissed her neck, licking the wound; tasting only the metallic tang of her blood, he relaxed. Eriana looked at him, a confused look on her face. "No poison, just blood," he said with a grin. She laughed and buried her head in his neck. "You know," he said into her ear, "with Taliesin gone, I have some freedom from the Crows. It will be some time before they send anyone after me, after all. In a way, I am free for the first time in my life."

Eriana glanced up at him, a worried look on her face. "Will you be leaving then? Now that you are free from the Crows."

"Ah, I think I may say," he said, kissing her gently. "You do make life interesting, my dear."

"Um, if you guys are quite done," Ogren said, clearing his throat, "I think we have some Queen or something to save."

Zevran reluctantly released his hold on Eriana, and the two of them stepped over Taliesin's dead body and continued through the alleyway to the Arl's estate.

* * *

Zevran had seen many instruments of torture in his life, both as a receiver and an administrator, but the things found in Howe's basement were beyond anything he had ever experienced. There were bodies hanging from the ceilings, impaled on the walls, and lying about in piles in the corners of the rooms. Howe was definitely a sick man, and not just because the entrance to the torture chambers were in his bedroom. However, the gruesome evidence of his acts weren't the only surprises hidden in the cellar of the estate. The moment they entered the basement, Eriana stopped short and began looking around, a confused look on her face. Zevran asked her what was wrong.

"I don't know; it's just a strange feeling, almost like Alistair is here," she said, looking behind her.

"What do you mean it _feels_ like Alistair is here?" Zevran said, now equally confused.

Eriana shook her head, "I'm not sure why, but I can sense Alistair when he's near. But this isn't Alistair; the feeling is stronger somehow. It's odd."

Eriana opened the door that led them into a room of cells, as they walked into the room, a guard moved to question them. As he walked by a cell door, two arms grabbed him and skillfully snapped his neck. The unknown prisoner then pulled the guard into his cell and quickly emerged, dressed in the guard's cheap armor.

"Thank you for creating the distraction, sister. I've been waiting days for that opportunity," the unknown man said.

"Sister?" Eriana said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, my name is Riordan, Senior Grey Warden of Jader, and you must be Eriana, Duncan's latest recruit."

"How in Thedas did you know that?" Eriana asked.

"Surely you can feel the connection. I felt your presence the moment you entered the estate, but I have been a Warden for many years. I suppose I am more sensitive to the taint." Eriana nodded. It must have made sense to her, but Zevran didn't really have any idea what they were talking about. It turns out that Riordan had been sent into Fereldan to find out why communications with Duncan and the Wardens had stopped and was captured by Howe once he arrived. The Wardens outside of Fereldan were preparing to fight the archdemon once Fereldan was destroyed and the horde moved on, but all hoped it wouldn't come to it.

"I'm sure you're weary from your imprisonment, Riordan. With that armor, you should be able to escape easily. Find Arl Eamon's estate in the market place; Alistair, the only other Grey Warden is waiting there. We need to take care of Howe and rescue the Queen," Eriana said. "We'll talk once we return, but let me say, I am very happy to have another Warden with us."

"Thank you for your assistance. Maker watch over you, sister."

The rest of the trip through the dungeons was equally unsettling. Howe had a vast menagerie of prisoners. Eriana was clearly disturbed by the brutality that they witnessed, but she was local enough to see the potential in each of the prisoners. The nobleman whose son they rescued would definitely side against Logahin as would the sister of the lyrium addled templar.

They were about to leave to last room of cells when a voice called out from a forgotten cell in the back, "Hello, is anyone out there?"

Zevran heard Eriana's breath catch before she ran to the door. "Maker's Breath, Soris," she whispered before frantically opening the door and throwing her arms around the young, handsome elf who had been locked inside. For what seemed like an eternity to Zevran, Eriana and this elf, Soris he assumed was his name, embraced; then Eriana planted a light kiss on his cheek before pulling away, but keeping her hands firmly on his arms. "What in Thedas are you doing here?"

"Urien had me arrested a few weeks after you left the alienage."

"What? But I told them…how did they find out?" Eriana cried out, looking slightly pale.

"Apparently one of Vaughn's guards survived the attack and told him that there had been another elf with you. They came immediately for me."

Zevran saw her stagger a bit and fought the urge to move closer to her, but Soris was already there, his arms already securely around her, keeping her on her feet. "Sweet Andraste, have you been here all this time?" Soris nodded. "Oh, this is my fault, I should have been more careful; I should have checked."

Soris hushed her quickly. "It's okay; you're here now," he said as he stroked her hair. He planted a light kiss on her forehead. "We're going to be alright." He sighed and tilted her head up, "So I'm assuming you've not seen Valora since you didn't even know I was here."

Eriana sighed, "No, I've not seen anyone. The ailenage has been closed off for months; I haven't even seen my father."

"Closed off? How can they just close off the ailenage?" Soris asked.

Zevran stood at a distance, watching the exchange with feigned disinterest. The obvious affection and intimacy between this Soris and his Eriana was starting to turn his stomach. This was the second man today who had held his Eriana in his arms, and though this one was not holding a knife to her throat, he seemed as much if not more dangerous to him as the first. Jealousy and possessive fury tinged with a hint of despair ripped through him as he tried very hard to look away from the two elves.

"You mean," Soris continued, "you didn't use your clout as a Grey Warden to get in? At least you could have sneaked in or are you too good to visit us common folk anymore?" Soris said angrily.

Eriana stiffened and glared up at him, "You have no idea what you are talking about Soris Tabris! I have no clout, in fact me and the one other Grey Warden of Fereldan are pariahs wanted for regicide!"

"Regicide? King Calien's dead?"

Eriana nodded. "Along with all the other Wardens, we've been on our own for seven months. If we had gotten caught or arrested, we would have been executed immediately."

Soris looked down at her, stunned. "I'm so sorry Ana. I had no idea."

She sighed, "Listen, we can't linger here; are you strong enough to sneak back into the ailenage?" Soris nodded. Eriana reached down to her left boot and pulled out a hidden dagger and sheath and handed it to him. "Don't use that unless you absolutely have to; it's crazy sharp and you would likely lose a finger. Take it to a dwarf in the market name Dorgin; I bought it from him. Just tell him you the Warden's cousin, and he'll buy it from you, no questions asked, got it?"

Cousin? Zevran suddenly remembered that she did have a cousin named Soris. No wonder there was such intimacy between them; Eriana had often mentioned that she regarded her cousins as siblings. A wave of relief rushed over him; this was family in her arms, not an old lover. He was about to smile at his folly when he felt an elbow nudge him sharply in the side. "Cousin hey? I have to say, I was getting a trifle worried for you for a second there, elf," Ogren muttered with a laugh. So was he, but there was no way Zevran would admit it to the dwarf.

Soris was examining the weapon. "What is this made of?" he asked, turning the gleaming dagger in his hands.

"Silverite."

Soris gasped, "I can't take this; it's too much."

Eriana laughed, "It's my off-hand dagger that I store in my boot; I think I can do with out it. You need it more. I can't even tell you when I used it last."

"You launched it into the head of that bandit in the forest after you almost turned into a werewolf," Zevran offered. Eriana's head jerked over to where they were standing, and she blushed. Apparently she had forgotten that they were there.

She glanced back at a wide-eyed Soris and giggled, "It's a long story. Maker, I've been a bronto's behind, everyone this is my cousin Soris. Soris, these are my friends. This is Ogren and Wynne, she's a mage." She glanced up at Wynne, "Do you think you could give him a bit of a boost, Wynne?" Wynne shot a spell over a stunned looking Soris, and he shuddered a bit at the spell's effect. "And last but not least, is Zevran," she finished with a smile. Zevran felt Soris's eyes as he seemed to assess him. He glanced over at Eriana with a raised eyebrow. "I'll tell you later. But right now, you need to escape and we need to move out. If you can't get back into the ailenage, go to Eamon's estate in the marketplace. Tell them who you are, and they should let you in. If they don't, ask for Leliana and tell her about what happened with me and Thomas Howe; that should verify who you are."

Zevran's eyes narrowed; was it this Howe's son who had hurt Eriana all those years ago? He glanced back at the two cousins as they parted ways. Finding her cousin like this had obviously shaken up Eriana more than she let on. "Are you alight my dear?" he asked after Soris had left. She shrugged her shoulders before moving toward the door, but Zevran caught her arm and pulled her against him, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "If he is half as tough as you then he will be just fine, my dear Warden."

"I know, I know."

* * *

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Grey Warden. Eamon must have truly lost faith in the Landsmeet if he is sending you to kill me," Howe said as Eriana walked into the room. Zevran quickly stepped up beside her, watching the Arl carefully. "Oh and look, not only do we have the pleasure of a Grey Warden but we also have one of the famed Antivan Crows. My, my, aren't we lucky. Don't think I don't remember you, elf. Perhaps your master will pay me when I return your head to them, after, of course, I finish the job you were hired to do."

Eriana did not waver, "Eamon didn't send us Howe; we're here for the Queen."

"Ah, so the treasonous bitch has you doing her dirty work, but, young Tabris, you always were one who was willing to do the bidding of your betters." Zevran saw her stiffen beside him as Howe continued. "Yes, I do remember you. So willing to please my youngest son, to bend to his will like the elven whore you are. It is simply too bad you have Eamon duped into trusting you. He will soon come to regret it."

Eriana had obviously heard enough because before Howe was even finished talking, her arrow was flying through the air. Surprisingly, Howe was able to dive out of the way before he was hit. The moment he was on his feet again, he charged directly at Eriana, daggers drawn. Zevran and Ogren moved around the room trying to take out Howe's guards as Eriana was engaged in a fierce duel with the arl himself. Even watching from the his periphery, Zevran could tell she was holding back, fighting cautiously, trying to wear the old man down before she made her move. Just as Zevran finished off the last of the guards, Eriana turned it on, her blades flying at a dizzying speed. Howe uttered a muffled cures as he tried desperately to block the dragon bone weapons, but Eriana was younger and faster and he was exhausted. She spun around him, drawing her dagger across his thigh before plunging the sword deep into his chest. Howe staggered and collapsed to the ground.

"Maker spit on you," he spat up at her as he lay on the floor, his blood pooling around him. "I deserved more."

Eriana knelt down, dagger still in hand, "I agree, but unfortunately, I'm in a bit of a hurry." With that, she brought her dagger slowly across his neck and stood up as he collapsed unceremoniously into pool of his own blood. Eriana glanced up at Zevran, "Now, let's get the Queen and get out of here."

* * *

"Warden, in the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men at arms. Surrender and you may be shown mercy."

And with that the trap was sprung. Ser Cauthrien was standing between them and the exit with a score of knights, a pair of mages, and a dozen archers, a small army sent by Loghain to apprehend his Warden, and Zevran was powerless to stop it. To go against them would be suicide, he knew this, but he could not simply let her go, that too would be suicide. He glanced over at Eriana, her face strangely calm as she fiddled with her ring. She looked up at Cauthrien, "I will stand down, but you don't know the whole story."

Eriana took a step toward the door, but Zevran caught her arm, "Amore, no," Zevran whispered before he realized what he had said. She turned back to him, looking intently into his eyes.

"We can't risk it, Zev; you know this," she said, placing a hand on his cheek. "Get them back safely, for me."

He felt her start to move away, so he pulled her to him, his lips crushing hers in a desperate, almost violent kiss. Far too quickly, she pulled back her head and whispered into his ear, "Have patience, my dear, patience."

And with that she was gone. He watched helplessly as she crossed the foyer toward Cauthrien's knights. A gauntleted hand crashed across her face, and Eriana collapsed to the ground. For the third time that day, his Warden was in the arms of another man; the third time must be a charm because this one succeeded in taking her away from him.

_

* * *

_

Okay, sorry for the delay in the update, back to work and all. I am kind of torn as to how I want to do this next part. I like Eriana being tough and breaking herself out, but Zevran coming to her rescue can be a tender moment too. I'll figure something out before this weekend. Hope you all enjoy this, and as always, reviews are loved and welcomed!


	28. Zevran and Eriana 28

Zevran couldn't remember exactly how they got back to Eamon's estate. In fact, he didn't remember anything except for the image of an armored hand slamming into Eriana's face and her body crumbling into a heap at the knight's feet. He had stood there helpless as the knight picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, her arms dangling limply on either side of her head.

His mind was busy the entire journey back to the estate, wondering what was happening to her, cursing himself for not stopping her, planning routes into Drakon to rescue her, but his mind kept coming back to her parting words. How was he supposed to be patient in a time like this, and what exactly did she mean when she said patience? Did she mean to wait and come rescue her later or to wait for her? Zevran wasn't sure, but he had to decide and soon. Logahin had finally succeeded in ensnaring her, something he had been trying to do for months. Zevran was quite sure that Loghain would kill her, but he was a clever man. Surely he knew what a reputation Eriana had garnered over the past seven months; killing her now in secret would have a very negative impact on the other nobles, nobles whose support he needed if he was to defeat Alistair and Eamon in the Landsmeet. They had time to do this the right way. The logical part of his brain was telling Zevran this, but there was another part of his brain was screaming for something quite different, screaming for him to act now, to get her back. He felt a sudden void in his life without her, like a part of himself was suddenly missing. As they walked through the doors of Eamon's estate, Zevran was struck with the sudden realization that this was more than a casual fling; it was simply too clear to deny any longer. And there was no way he was losing her now.

Zevran slowly began to register what was happening around him. Leliana was beside him, her hands wrapped around his, her presence oddly assuring. Anora was frantically explaining their escape and Eriana's capture to Alistair, who was pacing erratically behind Eamon, muttering to himself. The rest of their companions had filtered into the room, some were looking to Alistair, some to him, all with mixed expressions of horror and concern.

Suddenly, Alistair stopped his pacing and slammed his fists into the desk in front of him. "Andraste's flaming sword, why didn't I go with her?" His head jerked up, and he glared at Zevran, his eyes blazing, and Zevran felt any bridge that had been built between the two of them crumble. "And you, how could you just let her surrender? Don't you know what they will do to her?"

Zevran heard Leliana's surprised gasp beside him, but he remained unflinching. "And exactly what would you have me do, _Your Majesty_, kill a dozen armored knights single handedly? Eriana did what she thought was right; we would have been slaughtered."

Alistair growled in frustration and resumed his erratic pacing. "Loghain will kill her if we can't get to her now, and there is no way I'm letting that happen. If we leave now, we can make it to Drakon by midday. Sten, Ogren, and I can take out the guards while Leliana and Morrigan…"

"No."

Alistair's pacing stopped once again as his and every other head in the room turned to look at Zevran. "No?" asked Alistair, aghast, "What do you mean no? We are going after her, now."

Zevran steeled his resolve and stepped up to the fuming knight, "I said no. If Loghain intends to kill her, he will have done it already, but I do not believe that is the case. He needs her alive so that he can discredit her before he can kill her. Eriana is simply too famous and too respected among those in the Landsmeet to be eliminated quietly. Besmirching a good reputation takes time; he will have to garner to approval of the nobility before he can eliminate her in a way that best benefits him."

Leliana stepped forward, "He's right, Alistair. I've been listening to the nobles talk about Eriana in the tavern. They're intrigued by her; Loghain knows this. If he kills her now, he does himself more harm than good."

Alistair was not convinced. "So are you suggesting we simply leave her there to be ridiculed and _then_ killed? I can't believe this; I thought you two were her friends," he spat at them, angrily.

Zevran's eyes narrowed. "I am suggesting nothing of the sort. I am merely pointing out the fact that one cannot lay siege to a fortified prison with a force of eight people, or perhaps you were sick the day they taught tactics to the new Grey Wardens. It takes a special kind of stupid to think you can overpower the guards at Drakon with our small numbers," Zevran spat at Alistair, ignoring Leliana's discreet protests at his side. "Invading a fort such as that takes careful planning and execution, not a fool-hearted charge."

"How dare you…"

"I am not finished," Zevran said, ignoring Alistair's interruption. "Furthermore, you forget who Logahin has managed to capture. Eriana is more than capable of rescuing herself; in fact, our efforts to liberate her may only draw attention to the fact that she has already freed herself."

"So you think we should sit here and do nothing." Alistair threw up his hands and walked away from the two rogues. "Well, I'm sorry, I can't do that. I can't just sit here while they have her."

"You can, and you will," Zevran said sternly, his eyes never leaving Alistair's quickly reddening face.

"Look, elf," Alistair said, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from most everyone in the room. "Just because you are bedding her doesn't give you the right to make this decision."

Zevran felt Leliana's hand tighten on his arm, and he realized that his hand had instinctively gone to the hilt of his dagger. He clinched his hand into a fist and tried to calm himself. Maker, what was getting into him? Taking a deep breath, Zevran looked up at Alistair, "And just because you have finally decided to step up and become a true Theirin doesn't mean you are making the decisions either." Leliana groaned beside him and Alistair's jaw dropped, but Zevran didn't care. This man was not going to be the death of _HIS Warden_. "Eriana is the most cunning, alluring, clever, and resourceful person I have ever met. She will find a way back to m… to us unless you do something royally stupid to stop her."

Alistair crossed the room in three steps and stood, looming over the elf, but Zevran stood his ground. The two men stood, staring at each other, neither willing to give the slightest bit of ground to the other. Finally, Leliana had enough, and she stepped between them, taking Alistair by the arm. "What Zevran is trying to say is that it would be easier for someone as skilled as Eriana to break out of Drakon than it would be for a group of us to break in. You have to admit, it does require a certain set of skills that she already possesses, no?"

"Alistair," Eamon interrupted, "you are far too valuable to risk running off after her. You would be caught, and then where would we be? The Warden understood the risks when she went after the Queen. She is expendable, you are not. She has served her purpose, as you must serve yours."

If Ogren hadn't managed to get a death grip on Zevran's arm, Eamon would have lost a body part of some type, of that much Zevran was sure. Stupid, arrogant, ignorant nobleman. Leliana sighed, "Give her time, Alistair."

The King-to-be glanced at Leliana then at Zevran, refusing to even spare a glance in Eamon's direction. "Fine," he finally said, "she has until night fall, but if she is not back by then, we do this my way." And with that he stormed out of the hall, knocking Eamon out of the way in the process. Zevran smiled a bit to himself as he thought that there was one thing that he and Alistair agreed on. Now all he could do was pray that Eriana made found a way out by nightfall.

* * *

As Eriana slowly began to regain consciousness, she became acutely aware of two things. One, she was stripped down to her smalls and laying on a very cold stone floor, and two, Loghain was standing over her talking to Ser Cauthrien.

"So the trap managed to fool her then?"

"I'm not so sure she was ever fooled, My Lord. If anything, she came into it knowing it was a trap. She didn't seem at all surprised to find us at the doorway waiting for her, yet she came anyway."

"Hum, interesting. And you say she was the one who managed to kill Howe as well?"

"It looks that way. The poison on his wounds matches the poison on her blades, but her other companions could have been using the same compound."

"Impressive, and most fortunate, too, I wonder if she realized she was doing a double service to me, turning herself over so nicely into my custody and eliminating that viper Howe for me. Really, I should give her a medal," Loghain said with a cruel laugh.

Eriana laid perfectly still, feigning unconsciousness, quite unwilling to talk to Loghain or Cauthrien, but listening as they talked about her, hoping to garner some new information.

"So what are your intentions with her, my Lord? Do we execute her in the morning?"

"No, just lock her up for a while; I have some work to do on the fools in the Landsmeet before we can properly kill her. Plus, if we keep her here, Maric's bastard might actually be stupid enough to try to come after her. Then we will have both of them, and we will be able to put a stop to this foolishness." A feeling of panic ripped through Eriana. That was exactly what Alistair would try to do. It was a new trap, and she was the bait.

Loghain cleared his throat. "So tell me, do you think he is bedding this one? Or is she just employing other methods of controlling him?"

"No, My Lord, I don't think he is with her," Cauthrien said as the pair began to move away from her. "From what I saw at the estate, she is with another elf. He seemed pretty distraught to see her arrested."

"Hum, give the guards a description of his appearance as well as that of any of her other known companions. If they try to break in, we need to be ready for them."

Eriana heard a door close and a lock click home, and she began to breathe normally again. Her eyes still shut, Eriana tried to assess the situation around her. The way that their footsteps had echoed as they walked suggested that they were in a large room. To her right, she heard a soft rustling sound, another prisoner perhaps. Other than that, she heard only the sound of a single guard moving around the room. Surely that couldn't be right; only one guard? If that was the case, Eriana was truly insulted. Cautiously, Eriana opened her eyes, careful to keep her expression timid and slightly afraid. Trying her best to look nervous and frightened, she quickly scoped out the room. Sure enough, a lone guard was walking patrolling a large room, housing two meager jail cells. Beside her, a haggard looking prisoner sat, silently appraising her.

"Well, well, for a new prisoner, you get some high ranking visitors. I was wondering when you would wake up. Did you know the Hero of River Dane was in here a moment ago talking about you?"

Eriana glanced over at him, "Yeah, we've met once or twice." She pulled her legs up under her and wrapped her arms around her midriff, feeling suddenly chilly. She saw the guard shoot her a familiar look, and it was in that moment that inspiration hit. Suddenly, breaking out of the prison didn't seem so hard.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Eriana grinned, "Me, I'm breaking out of this place."

Quickly, Eriana quickly undid the clasp that was holding up her hair, letting her long, blond locks fall around her shoulders. She tucked the lock picks that she had hidden in there in the front of her breast band. Finding a small bucket of water in the corner of the room, she carefully washed the blood and grime off her face and the carefully dripped some water on her arms and down her back, causing her to shiver as the water cooled her. Wrapping her arms tightly just beneath her chest, just high enough to cause her breasts to come together in an alluring way, Eriana made her way to the edge of her sell as the guard walked by.

"Excuse me, sir," she asked, keeping her voice as soft and innocent as possible. She turned her head down and glanced up at him, shyly through her eyelashes. "I know this is probably a silly question, I'm almost embarrassed to ask, but is there any way you could get me a blanket, or even a shirt. It's just so cold in here, and look at me, I'm shivering from head to foot."

She wagered a peek up at the guard who was glaring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes. Yeah, this was going to be a piece of cake. "I'm sorry, miss, but this is a prison. We don't have extra blankets."

"Oh," she said, looking down sadly and hugging herself tightly, causing her breasts to swell and move together. She heard the guard take a deep breath. "I understand, but maybe, perhaps, you could keep me warm." As she spoke, Eriana glanced up at him, her head cocked in a coquettish way to the side, a slight smile crossing her face. She turned her face slightly upward and batted her eyelashes a few times as her eyes traveled over his body. When she caught his eye, she grinned again and looked away bashfully.

"Well, um, I guess, um," the guard hastily whipped a ring of sweat off his forehead as he stammered. Then he laughed, "Yeah, I could definitely keep you warm."

The guard quickly made his way to the door of her cell, fumbling a bit with the keys in his hands before he managed to get the door open. Eriana spared a glance at the prisoner in the neighboring cell who was staring at her, his mouth agape. She quickly waved him off, and he nodded and made his way to the corner of his cage. Finally, the guard managed to unlock the door and made his way into her cell, closing the door behind him. Eriana grinned and made her way over to him.

"Let me see what's under this helmet," she said, reaching up with both hands and removing the guard's helm, letting it fall behind him. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched where the helmet came to a rest, just behind the guard, but not out of reach. "Now, isn't that better?" she said as she smiled up at him. He wasn't that bad looking, but he was no Zevran or Alistair by any means. Running her hands up the front of his armor, she pulled herself close to him only to jump back with a surprised yelp.

"What is it," he asked, surprised.

"It's nothing; well, it's just, how can you warm me up in all that cold metal armor?" Eriana said with a slight pout. She ran her fingers down his jaw line to the neck of his armor; pulling him down close, she captured his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. "Ummm, so warm," she purred as the guard shivered under her touch.

"Right, armor, well, I can fix that easily," the guard said, as he began to fumble clumsily with the straps.

Eriana stepped back up to him, taking one of his hand into hers and deftly removing the gauntlet. "No, allow me." With nimble fingers she quickly removed both of the guard's gauntlets and dropped them out of the way. Then Eriana moved behind him and slowly began to unbuckle the clasps of his armor. As she worked on him with her hands, she slowly began to reach back with her foot to pull the man's helmet to her side. Once she had it, she let the guard's armor fall off him. "See," she said as her arms snaked around him, pressing against his back, "isn't that so much better." The guard sighed as she let her hands travel down to undo the laces of his breeches. Keeping her body pressed against his, she slid a hand down his pants, while the other hand reached behind her to grab the helmet that she had quietly lifted with her foot. Once the helmet was firmly in hand, she whispered into the guard's ear, "So, are you ready?" He groaned and leaned back against her. Smiling to herself, she brought the helmet hard across the base of his neck. The guard let out a surprised yelp before crashing to the ground in front of her, completely unconscious.

"Maker's breath, that was something else," the prisoner to her left muttered as Eriana quickly found the keys on tucked away in the guard's armor. "Did ya kill him?"

"No, just knocked him out, though killing him might have been the more humane thing to do. They will not be happy with him when they realize I've escaped." Eriana quickly unlocked her prison door and then moved to her neighbor's door. "Did you see where they put my armor?" He nodded and pointed to a box by the door. She quickly unlocked the cage door and let the man out. "Don't try to follow me; just find your own way out."

The man thanked her and disappeared. Now she needed to get her things and get find a way out before her friends got themselves arrested trying to free her.

* * *

Zevran spent most of the afternoon sharpening and repolishing his daggers, and trying everything possible to take his mind off their situation. He was certain that Eriana could find a way out of Drakon, but he it didn't stop him from worrying about her. Around the room, everyone else was engaged in equally mundane and silent tasks. Alistair had been pacing a rut in front of the fire place for an hour; Leliana had been reading the same page of a book for the last twenty minutes; Wynne had been sorting herbs and poultices; Ogren and Sten had been flipping over cards in a mindless game of Wicked Grace; and Shale simply stood in the corner, watching them all without passion. Zevran sighed and reached down to pet the dog that was laying at his feet. "Don't worry, ol' boy," he whispered softly, "we'll get her back."

"That's it," Alistair suddenly shouted, shattering the silence, making everyone jump slightly. "I can't take it anymore; we're going after her." He glanced over at Zevran, "It's nearly nightfall, and there's no sign of her."

"Alistair, please. Just give her some time. I know it's hard, and Maker knows, we're all worried, but you can't lose your head over this." Leliana pleaded, looking at Zevran for help.

Zevran just rolled his eyes and glanced back at Alistair, who was staring at him menacingly. "I never agreed that we would go at nightfall," Zevran said as he continued working on his already perfect daggers. "That would be the most obvious time to go in after her; they would surely be expecting a trap then. Or are you trying to get her killed?"

"We did this your way," Alistair shouted, "and it didn't work. Now we do it mine."

* * *

It was nearly nightfall by the time Eriana crept into the Arl's estate. She was tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a bath, but she was happy to be back. Breaking out of Drakon proved to be a relatively easy task for her once she was out of her jail cell. Dressed as a guard, she was able to simply walk out of the front doors after she nicked the password from the pocket of some dim-witted guards. Quickly, she made her way into the kitchen entrance and grabbed a handful of grapes before making her way upstairs to find Zevran and Leliana. That was when she heard the shouting.

As quickly as possible, she darted up the stairs toward Eamon's study as Alistair's voice carried down the hall, "Now we do it mine." She slipped up to the door to find Alistair glaring down with an angry and defiant look on his face at Zevran who was standing in front of him, arms crossed. She slipped over to Ogren who was standing beside the door and quietly asked what was going on.

"Ah, they're just arguing over how to get you out of Drakon," he whispered, glancing up at her with a grin before he took one of her grapes and popped it in his mouth . "Guess the elf had the right idea."

"Alright, fearless leader, say we do this your way; who do you send after her? We cannot all go; it would be far too suspicious," Zevran said, his back still to the door.

"Sten and Ogren, they would have the best chance of fighting their way through the guards."

Eriana leaned down to Ogren, "Ask how you would get the cage open."

"Say Sten and I do go in, how do we open the cage if we can't find the key? We'd need a rogue with us."

"Fine, Ogren and Leliana will go," Alistair said, never taking his eyes off the elf in front of him.

Eriana prompted Ogren again. "She's supposed to be under cover, won't that blow her cover."

Alistair sighed, "Fine Zevran will go."

"And how, exactly are Ogren and I supposed to get past the guards at the front gates? Should we simply walk up to them and say please." Zevran asked.

Alistair threw up his hands, "I don't know. Take the dog with you. You could say that you're delivering the dog; surely they have dogs in Drakon."

"Yes," Eriana said loudly, smiling to herself as everyone turned to look at her, relieved expressions crossing their faces. "But none of them are as smart as Ramoth."

Leliana let out an excited squeal and dashed across the room, throwing her arms around Eriana. She kissed the top of her head and whispered to her, "I knew you had it in you; it's wonderful to see you."

Alistair stood, his mouth gaping open, "But when, how…"

"It was easy; I got the key from the guards and snuck out. Really, Alistair, I'm a bit disappointed that you have so little faith in my abilities," Eriana said with a grin, popping a grape into her mouth. "It was barely even a challenge if I'm being perfectly honest."

"Well, thank the Maker you have returned, I'm sure…" Eamon said, and Eriana noticed several faces harden as he spoke. He seemed to realize that too because he chose not to say whatever it was he was about to say.

Eriana felt Wynne's magic wash over her, healing any bruises that she had acquired, and she shot the mage a smile of thanks before turning her attention to Zevran who was still standing in front of Alistair, a look of pride and relief on his face. "If you would all excuse me, it has been a rather trying day, and I would like to get a bit of rest before we proceed."

"Of course," Alistair said, "Um, I'm glad you're back, Eriana. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Eriana smiled, "Thank you, Alistair, good night."

Zevran quickly joined the women in the hallway as they made their way to Eriana's room. Leliana quietly excused herself, saying she was going to fetch Eriana a bath and something to eat, but Eriana barely noticed she had left. The moment they were in her room, Zevran was on her, pressing her against the door, capturing her mouth in a desperate, passionate kiss, his hands traveling over her body. She moaned and rocked against him, her fingers locked in his hair, pulling him closer to her. They stayed that way, bodies locked together, neither willing to release the other even for a moment until the maids came with water for her bath and food from the kitchen. Zevran helped her into the large, stone tub and brushed her hair as she told him of her escape from Drakon.

"So, you seduced some hapless guard and used his key to escape?" Zevran said with a laugh. Eriana nodded. "Oh, my dear, you are a saucy little vixen aren't you."

"Well, I did learn from the best," she said, smiling as he lifted her from the tub and carried her to their bed.

Sometime later, Eriana lay in the bed after she and Zevran ate her cold dinner. She was still starving, but she simply didn't care. After the day she had had, all she wanted was to be close to Zevran, to be by his side, and judging by his reaction, he seemed to want the same thing. Lazily, he rolled over beside her, and looked down at her with a look in his eyes that she couldn't quiet place.

"I have something that I would like to give you, if you would permit me." He opened her hand and placed in it a single solitary diamond earring. "I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Riveini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single jewled earring when I killed him."

"Was that _all_ he was wearing?" Eriana asked with a sly grin.

Zevran glanced down at her with a grin and then kissed her gently on the lips, "Ah, you know me too well, mia cara. I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since…and I'd like you to have it."

Eriana sat up and glanced down at the earring in her hand. A sentimental keepsake, something from Zevran's past that he had kept for so long, and he was giving it to her. She glanced up at him, "It's beautiful, Zev, thank you."

"It's meant a lot to me, but so have…so has what you've done. Thank you. I have no better way to say it," he said as his hand stroked the side of her face. "I should have given it to you earlier, I know this now, and then, when I thought I might…we might lose you…well, I'm glad to have a chance to give it to you."

Eriana reached up and put the earring in her ear and glanced up at his face. He was still lightly caressing her face, but now his hand would pause momentarily on the jewel in her ear. There was something else, however, a look Eriana couldn't quite identify. He seemed timid and hesitant for some reason; doubt began to gnaw at Eriana for a moment. Then he smiled sweetly down at her before leaning down to kiss her again. She sighed and snuggled up against him, her head resting on his chest, feeling safe with his arms wrapped around her, the musky smell of leather surrounding her. Whatever was troubling him, they would deal with in the morning. Right now, all she wanted to do was rest safely in his arms.

* * *

Zevran watched his warden as she slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms, his earring glistening in her ear. Feelings he couldn't identify began to surge through him; emotions he thought long dead pulsed through his chest. It took almost losing her a second time to make him realize how much he truly cared, and there was no turning back now. He felt suddenly vulnerable like his heart was exposed; confusion and panic threatened to rip through him, but a quick glance at the woman in his arms and those feelings were quelled, at least for the time being. So, there in the darkness, Zevran lay, waiting till he was certain she was fully asleep before he said the words that had never before crossed his lips.

"Good night, amore, I love you."

* * *

_Hey everyone. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Sorry that it has taken me so long between chapters. Please let me know what you think!_


	29. Alistair and Zevran 29

Alistair was thrilled to finally escape from the evil clutches of Arl Eamon. The Arl had spent the last eight hours trying to cram a lifetime of noble training into Alistair's head. Landsmeets, balls, vassals, and salad forks were all a muddled mess in Alistair's mind, and, on top of that, he was starving. It had been hours since dinner, and it was well past time for his mid-evening-after-dinner snack. Luckily, he was able to find Eriana enjoying her late night snack in their sitting room, so he plopped down beside her and helped himself to the platter on the table in front of her.

Eriana glanced up from the papers she was reading and grinned. "Cheese, Alistair, really? Don't you ever get tired that stuff?"

Alistair shrugged, "What can I say? I love cheese." He looked over toward the table in the middle of the room where Zevran and Ogren were playing some card game. "What's wrong with Ogren? He looks a lot drunker than usual."

Eriana grinned, "Zevran challenged him to a game of Wicked Grace, but he made it a drinking game. You lose a hand, you take a shot."

"And how is Ogren losing exactly? I figured he could drink Zevran under the table."

"Oh, he can, but Zevran is cheating."

"Cheating?" Alistair asked, looking over at the elf. "And he isn't afraid Ogren will catch him and, you know, go all Ogren on him."

"Nah, he's too good, and Ogren is almost too far gone to even see the cards anymore," Eriana said with a laugh. "Ogren should have known better than to play this game with him anyway; it's far too easy to cheat. Any rogue worth his salt can win easily at this game."

Alistair glanced over at him, suddenly interested. "Really, how?"

"Well, it just takes a simple sleight of hand to stack the deck in your favor, and since you draw your own cards in this game, you can also stack the deck against your opponent." Eriana grinned, "Zev only plays this with Ogren because he knows he can't beat me."

"Oh, ho, ho, you don't really believe that, do you?" Zevran asked from across the room, displaying his winning hand to Ogren before pouring the dwarf another drink.

"I do, and if I remember correctly, you've yet to beat me at this game."

"Only because I've let you win. It's all part of my grand plan; you see, I allow you to win often and lure you into a false sense of security. Then I will utterly defeat you," Zevran said with a grin.

Eriana laughed, "Liar."

"Thief."

"Murderer."

"Touché," said Zevran with a laugh. "Do you care to prove yourself; I'm quite sure Ogren's too far gone to notice if you take his place."

Eriana hopped up, "You're on."

Alistair watched as the two elves faced off over the deck of cards. Zevran's eyes never left the deck while Eriana's eyes stayed locked on Zevran. From time to time, she would catch his hand just before he took a card, or he would slap her hand away and they would both laugh. After a few minutes Eriana spread her cards out on the table, and Zevran uttered a slight cure. "Care to amend you bragging, Crow."

"Ah, my dear, once again you have bested me it seems," Zevran said with a laugh.

Alistair sighed; sometimes watching the two of them made him nauseated. "Well," he said, getting up, "I guess I'm going to try to get Ogren to bed. I shudder to think how grumpy he will be if he wakes up slumped over a table." Alistair made his way over to the dwarf and hoisted him onto his feet. Ogren muttered something about nugs as Alistair tried to steer the inebriated dwarf toward his room. It took him a lot longer than he assumed it would, so by the time he got back, the common room was deserted. Glancing around, he noticed that Eriana had left some food behind, so he helped himself. One more piece of cheese before bed wouldn't hurt anyone. He wasn't even aware that Anora was in the room until she spoke up from behind him.

"What it is with you Theirin men and cheese I will never know." Alistair spun around to find Anora standing in the room, glaring at him like she was appraising him. He still wasn't happy with her presence or her role, however innocent it may have been, in Eriana's capture, so he merely shrugged and turned back into the room. "I don't even know what I was thinking agreeing to this," she muttered, turning to leave, "you look far too much like your brother."

This caught Alistair's attention. His head jerked to the doorway where she was still standing, "What are you talking about?"

Anora turned and smiled a coy, knowing smile. "So she hasn't told you yet, typical; I suppose there's no real reason for you to know. Well, I guess you'll find out soon enough; then we will have to work out the details between us." And with that, she disappeared into the hallway.

"Us?" Alistair wondered. "There is no us, unless…no, she wouldn't. There is no way she could even imagine that I would ever agree to…" A chill suddenly ran down Alistair's spine. Eriana didn't really believe that he would ever agree to marry that ice queen, not if he had anything to say about it. He took off out of the room, suddenly very eager to talk to the other Warden.

Alistair hesitated for a moment outside her door, slightly afraid of what he might be disturbing between her and Zevran, but he shook it off. He needed to talk to her, now. Timidly, he knocked on the door. "Eriana, this is Alistair. Look, we need to talk." He waited for a moment, before he knocked again, a bit louder this time. "Maker's Breath, don't ignore me; this is important." He paused for a moment, growing more angry by the second. He almost walked away when he heard a sob from the other side of the door. Without regard for the elves' privacy, Alistair rushed into the room and was crushed by what he saw. Eriana was curled up on the couch in front of the fire, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head buried in her arms that were resting on them. Her entire body shuddered as she sobbed uncontrollably. Alistair's heart shattered to see her so broken, so vulnerable. She was always so tough, so strong; Alistair couldn't imagine what happened to leave her in such a state. He had never seen her like this.

Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed to the elf. Kneeling in front of her, he gently lifted her chin, "Eriana, honey, what's wrong."

"Oh, Alistair," was all she managed to get out before she practically threw herself into his arms, clinging to the front of his tunic, soaking his shoulder with the influx of her tears.

Alistair gently lifted her up and settled her into his lap, holding her as she cried. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what had happened in the few short minutes since he had left her; she seemed so happy just a few moments ago. And where was Zevran; shouldn't he be here through this? Alistair felt her body give a little jerk as she tried to bring her tears under control; then she snuggled up against him, burying her head into his shoulder. Gently, he pushed the blond tendrils of her face and looked down at her. Even with eyes puffy from crying and tear stained cheeks, she was still the loveliest woman he had ever met. Old feelings that had never quite died came rushing back the moment her tear-filled blue eyes looked up at him. Taking a deep breath and summoning all of his templar discipline, Alistair gave her a light kiss on the forehead and asked her what had happened.

She shook her head before settling it back against his chest. Alistair pulled her closer to him and stroked her hair as she spoke. "It's Zevran; he's been acting strange since I got back from Drakon, hesitant, distant, I don't know. Then tonight," she took several short, shallow breaths, tears threatening to flow anew. Alistair ran his hand down her arm, waiting for her to finish. "Tonight he just snapped at me. He said he was sleeping somewhere else, and he refused to tell me why. Alistair, we've been together for months; I don't know what changed. Then he took his things to leave, and when I tried to stop him, he told me to do something else with my time." She was crying again. "Then he just left. I just don't understand. What did I do? Why would he just leave me?"

Alistair couldn't imagine why anyone would willingly want to leave her. He had made that mistake once and it cost him. It cost him her. Zevran knew that; why would he risk making the same mistake? It just didn't make sense.

Eriana looked up at Alistair with the saddest eyes he had ever seen. Do you think he's tired of me? That maybe he was just using me as a shield from the Crows, and now that that threat is over, he done with me?" She sat up and buried her face in her hands. "That's it, isn't it?" Her breaths started coming more quickly. "Oh, I'm such an idiot. All this time, he was using me, and I fell for it." Her short, shallow breaths gave way to tears as her entire body slumped against him as she began sobbing again.

Alistair had had enough. "Hey, stop that right now," he said, gently lifting her head from her hands and looking deep into her eyes. "Listen to me; you are not an idiot. You are one of the smartest and kindest people I have ever met. If anyone is the idiot here, it's him." Eriana rolled her eyes, "No, Ana, I mean it. I was an idiot for letting you get away from me for not fighting harder for you, but if he is pushing you away, he's an even bigger idiot." Alistair grazed the side of her face and tucked a hair behind her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch. "There is nothing in all of Thedas that can even come close to comparing to you, and if Zevran doesn't see that, then he doesn't deserve you."

Eriana rested her head against Alistair's shoulder, but didn't say anything. She simply closed her eyes while Alistair held her, cradled in his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her. He felt her yawn as her body relaxed against his. Sleepily she glanced up at him, an air of weakness rolling off of her, "Alistair, please, don't leave me alone….I just…I can't be alone tonight. Would you stay? With me?"

Alistair's heart jumped and sank all at the same time. He wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her sleeping in his arms, but she was hurting and need comfort, not something she was going to come to regret and resent him for. But he couldn't very well leave her alone, not in the state she was in. Reluctantly, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed she and Zevran had been sharing. He gently tucked her into the bed and sat down beside her, on top of the covers, stroking her hair as she drifted into a fitful sleep. Once he was sure that she was fully asleep, he slipped off of the bed and looked down at her as she slept. A different class of man would have taken advantage of her weak emotional state, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Leaving Ramoth in the bed with strict orders to come find him if anything changed, Alistair quietly stole out of the room; luckily, he met Leliana in the hall as she was coming in from the Tavern.

"Lil, could you do me a favor and sleep with Eriana tonight. I'll explain everything in the morning, but she really needs someone right now."

Leliana looked confused, "Of course I will, but where is Zevran?"

Alistair's face hardened. "That's what I'm going to find out."

* * *

Zevran had lost count of his drinks after the fourth ale. He had taken refuge in the back corner of the kitchen, away from the servants who were cleaning up the remnants of dinner and his companions who were hopefully in bed by now. Finding the tankard in front of him empty, Zevran refilled it, hoping to erase the memory of that evening from his mind, especially the look on Eriana's face when he left her. Cursing himself, he took a long drink before leaning forward on the table, his head in his hands.

It was not like Zevran to allow himself to get so worked up, and over a girl no less, but here he was, drunk, sullen, and angry. And confused. Being so confused was what was the most unsettling. Before Eriana had come into his life, everything had been easy. Well, not easy, but at least things were rather straight forward, uncomplicated. He took his pleasures where he could find them and was content with that. Even his friendships had been shallow semblances of true relationships could be, but the main difference was that he didn't know any better. He had never understood the depth of emotion that he was capable of until Eriana. Even Rina had only scratched the surface compared to this.

Now that he had finally admitted to himself what he truly felt, his entire being was flooded with doubts and second guessing. Love? What did he know of love? The whores had taught him that love was an illusion, a product that could be bought and sold, a pretense that could be washed away like their painted on make-up. His first lessons in love were taught by those who had learned the hard way the heartache a soft heart can bring. Broken and jaded women laughed at him and scorned him every time sought out love or even acceptance from them, and not a one of them seemed sorry to see him sold to the Crows. No, there was no love in the whore house, only sorrow and heartache and temporary solace from broken lives and shattered dreams.

And what of the Crows, what did they teach him of love? They taught him that love was something only to be scorned and spurred. Any show of affection or friendship earned him a beating. He watched other broken boys around him, like him, who were too weak, too malleable, too loving. He watched as those boys were destroyed, and he became stronger. The Crows taught him to use the illusion of love to ensnare unsuspecting targets or to exploit love as a weakness, but he never understood what love was. Rina was the first person in his life who had loved him; he realized that now. And what had he done? He destroyed her, laughed as she died, and spit on her bleeding body. No, Zevran never knew love.

Never until now. Never until Eriana. And now, the prospect of that fact, the fact that he was loved so wholly and completely, and the fact that he may, indeed, return the feelings, overwhelmed him with doubt and confusion. What could someone who had only known passion and pleasure know of love? How could he tell if it was love that he was feeling or if it was merely a strong physical desire to be with her? He had never before been with a lover for so long or so exclusively. Was he simply attracted to her physically and had misconstrued that for love?

Sighing, Zevran replayed that evening in his head. After Alistair had led the drunken Ogren out of the room, Eriana and he had retreated to the room that they had been sharing since they arrived in Denerim. It had been a long day for Zevran. While Eriana had spent the entire day in meetings, discussing strategy with Eamon, Grey Warden affairs with Riordan, and politics with Anora, he spent the entire day contemplating his feelings for her. As she slept, he had whispered that he loved her, but in the light of day, those feelings were not quite so simple. By the time Eriana joined him in the late evening, Zevran had second guessed every decision he had ever made with her and was a fury of emotion. But he didn't show it, of course; he was too practiced at covering up any weaknesses to allow her to see it.

Zevran was sitting on the couch staring into the fireplace when Eriana strolled over to him, wearing the human sized tunic that she liked to sleep in. The oversized shirt should have swallowed her in an unflattering mound of fabric, but, like everything she wore, she managed to still look amazing. A familiar feeling stirred in Zevran's stomach as she settled herself on his lap and started playing with the braids that framed his face.

"You know," Eriana said, looking up at him with a coy look on her face, "I am so not cut out for politics. All this talk of landsmeets and political dealings has given me a massive headache." She wrapped her arms around him. "The only thing that got me through it was knowing that you would be here, waiting for me." She ran a finger down his chest as she whispered in his ear. "And I am ready show you just how much I missed you. Would you like that?"

Zevran took her arms and gently lifted her off of his lap, "No…I mean, no offense; I simply…no."

Her head jerked up, a confused and hurt look crossing her face. "What…is something wrong?"

"No, it's not, ugh, I don't want to talk about it." He tried to walk away, but she caught him by the arm.

"Are you sure; because it looks like you want to talk about it?" she said, a concerned look on her face.

Then he snapped, "Enough. I said I am not interested. Can't you understand that?" Eriana looked like he had slapped her, but he continued. "There are other things for you to focus on besides me…do those."

"Zevran, I…"

"Look, I think it's best if I stayed somewhere else for a while. I just…I don't want…" he sighed. "It's just for the best." Zevran turned to grab his things, but Eriana caught his arm to stop him.

"Zevran, what is wrong? Please talk to me."

"I can't, not now. Goodnight, Warden." And with that he left her. A few hours later, he found himself in the kitchen, throwing back ales, quietly contemplating his relationship with Eriana. He was physically attracted to her, of that much he was certain, but how much of his affection for her was tied only to that? He had never before been in a relationship where sex wasn't the main factor. Was he even capable of having feelings that weren't tied to sex? He needed to find out, and that was why he retreated from her bed that night. He had to know if his feelings went deeper than that, if there was something beyond her body that he wanted. If sex was all there was, he could handle that; if not, well, he could handle that as well.

Right? He thought he could, hoped he could, but deep down, he was uncertain. If he did have feelings for her, what would that mean for them, for their future? Zevran laughed at himself and drained the tankard in front of him. He tried to imagine their future. If they truly wanted to stay together, she would have to leave the Wardens; it would simply be too dangerous for both of them if she stayed in such a public role. The Crows would eventually come for him, so their entire future would be spent on the run, hiding from assassins, jumping at every sound. That was no life for her; no, she deserved more than that. She deserved security and stability, everything he couldn't offer. But the other option was even more unbearable; he would have to leave so the Crows would leave her alone. He could imagine this future just as clearly. Eriana would remain with the Wardens, probably as the leader of the ones in Freidan. She would be surrounded by fellow Grey Wardens who would protect her. She would be safer, better off without him, and he would be better off without her as well, away from the dangerous sentimental feelings.

And yet, he wanted her, needed her; though every fiber of his being screamed against it. Though everything that he had been taught told him that his feelings were wrong, he couldn't help it. He just had to know if the feelings were real, and that was what led him out of her bed and into the keg of ale. And he was content to stay there until a voice pulled him from his moping thoughts.

"You are an absolute idiot, I hope you realize that."

* * *

It took a several minutes and a few coins for the servants, but Alistair was finally able to track down the assassin. He was furious at the man and so determined to give him a piece of his mind that he started shouting at him before he even looked at him. The elf's turned slowly to look at him for a moment before turning back to the glass in front of him. Maker's breath, he thought Eriana looked bad, but Zevran looked absolutely awful. He never imagined that the cool and confident assassin could ever appear to be so weak, and broken. For a moment, he almost felt pity for the man, but then he remembered the elven woman who he had held in his arms as she cried herself to sleep, and the pity was gone. "I seem to remember you telling me that I was an idiot for refusing her, and now you are pushing her away. And why now, Zevran? Don't you think she has enough on her plate to worry about without having to worry about you?"

Zevran glared up at him, "Do you think I don't realize that?"

"I'm not sure what you realize. All I know is that I spent the entire evening holding Eriana as she cried herself to sleep, and over you." Zevran cringed a bit at that, but didn't say anything. Alistair stormed over to him and pulled his drink away, throwing the tankard to the floor. "Now, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on."

"And why should I tell you anything."

Alistair seized the elf by the front of his tunic, "Because if I was a lesser man, I would be with her right now, and I would have killed you for hurting her like this. So you are going to tell me now before I decide that I'm not such a good man."

Zevran just hung his head, "You should go to her; she deserves a man like you. She could do much better than me."

Alistair was taken aback for a moment. "Not that I'm disagreeing with that fact, but what brought that on all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, it's just, she deserves more. I could never give her what she truly deserves."

Alistair sighed and sat down beside the elf. "Unfortunately, this isn't about what she deserves; it's about what she wants, what she needs, and right now, that's you. As much as I hate to admit it, I can't give her what she needs, but you can." He put a hand on the assassin's arm. "Look, Maker knows I don't relish the fact that you are with her, but for some reason beyond my comprehension, she cares for you, deeply. And as much as it pains me, I can see that you care for her, too." Zevran glanced over at him. "Don't bother denying it; we all saw you when you came back from Howe's estate."

Alistair turned the elf and looked him square in the face. "Zevran, if you ever cared for her in anyway, go now and fix this. Do it for her."

"I'm sorry; I can't."

"And why not because I'm not taking that for an answer."

"Because," Zevran said, his voice heavy with emotion, "I am a nobody. A whoreson and a murder. What could I ever offer the likes of her? I could never give her what she truly deserves."

"No, but you can give her what she wants, what she needs." Alistair sighed; he couldn't believe that he was saying this. "I know we've had our differences, Zevran, but in the end, we both want what is best for Eriana. If that means that I have to drag you back to her, kicking and screaming, then so be it; I'll do it if it makes her happy. You are a good man Zevran, despite your past, and I know you don't want to hurt her." Zevran shook his head. "Good, now take this; it's Ogren's morning after brew that he and Wynne concocted for him. It should knock out your buzz so you can go talk to her without making things worse."

Zevran looked up at Alistair. "You are a good man, too, you know that?"

"Yeah, it always comes back to bite me in the butt, too. Now, go, and just so you know, if I ever have to pick up the pieces after you again, don't expect me to be quite so noble." Alistair said as he watched the elf leave, returning to the woman that he still loved. The woman they both loved.

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who has added alerts and given reviews. It's nice to know that people are actually reading. I thought I'd throw Alistair a bone on this one since he always seems to get things wrong. I thought I'd let him get something right for a change. _

_Hope you enjoy this one, sorry for the delay between updates. Papers to grade and what not._


	30. Zevran and Eriana 30

Morning light was just beginning to pour through the windows of Eriana's bedroom when Zevran woke up. He quietly stretched, trying to work the stiffness out of his neck and back. "These chairs are not meant to be slept in," Zevran thought to himself as he tried to massage a particularly sore knot out of his neck. When he had returned to Eriana's room the previous night, Zevran was ready to tell her everything, to explain his odd behavior, to calm her fears. However, when he saw her, sleeping there, her face red and tear stained, he hadn't had the heart to wake her, so he spent the night trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair by her bedside, listening to her fitful sleeping. His heart sank as he looked over at her; he had rejected her and, in doing so, hurt her more than he had ever intended. Zevran didn't want to hurt her; he just wanted her to be happy, to be safe, to have all she ever wanted.

Eriana gave a slight sigh and began to stir, rolling on her side away from him. Zevran held his breath, unsure of what to expect from her when she woke up and saw him there. He had been dreading this all night, remembering how she had treated Alistair after he hurt her feelings. This was going to be so much worse, he feared. To his surprise, however, she didn't start yelling the instant she saw him sitting there. Her eyes quickly widened in surprise for a moment then quickly looked away.

"Good morning, Zevran," she said as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. He noticed that they were red and slightly puffy, clear evidence of a night spent crying; a pang of guilt shot through him. She glanced his way again, her expression completely neutral and unreadable, "I have to say, I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you made it abundantly clear that you would be spending the evening elsewhere."

Zevran cringed slightly; he deserved that. "Yes, well, I realized that too much was left unsaid last night, and I hoped to rectify that, but…"

"Zevran," she interrupted him, "now is not the time. I have a lot on my plate today, and it's simply too early to be having a conversation this serious."

Before he could say anything else, Eriana slipped out of the bed and disappeared into the washroom. Immediately, Zevran realized what was happening. She was still hurt, but she refused to let him see it. Damn her pride. He had seen it unleashed on Alistair when he first joined their party, and now it was turned on him. It was her one real weakness, her one true flaw. Once she was hurt, once her pride was bruised, she closed herself off and shut out those who hurt her. It had happened with Alistair, and it had taken them weeks to reconcile. And in that time, Zevran had swooped in and won her affections. Well, he wasn't about to risk that happening again; especially with Alistair's warning ringing in his ears. Quickly, Zevran donned his leather armor and waited for his Warden to return, resolved to tell her everything he was feeling. He was not going to risk losing her.

She soon emerged from the washroom, dressed in her drake scale armor, tugging on the laces of the bracer she wore on her left arm. Zevran quickly crossed the room and gently took her arm and began tightening the lacings of the leather piece of armor. As he held her arm, he looked up into her face, noting how she was carefully looking away. Carefully, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face towards his. "Can we talk?"

Eriana sighed, her eyes meeting his just briefly before she looked away again. "Yes, I guess we need to."

Zevran sighed. "Everything that has happened here recently, your escape from Drakon, Taliesin's death, well, it has forced me to reevaluate things in my life, particularily you…us."

Eriana turned her face away and took a deep breath. "I think I know where this is going," she said with a sigh. "You're probably right, too. It would probably be best for all of us if we just ended this now. I suppose there is too much else going on, and it would be best if we eliminated the distractions." She turned and started toward the door, "I'll just…I'll let you go, now."

Zevran moved quickly, closing the door, and pinning her against it in one fluid movement. "Is that what you want, to end things now?"

Tears started threatened to escape from Eriana's eyes as she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "No," she said softly, almost whispering it, "but that's what you're suggesting, right? You reevaluated things, right, and decided that, we're…I'm not…" she sighed again and turned toward the door.

Zevran took her by the shoulders and turned her back toward him, "Is that what you think?" Eriana nodded, "Mia, cara, why would you think that?"

She looked up at him, confusion clearly showing on her face. "You moved out; you turned me down. How could I not think you wanted…I mean, you've never said no, ever. I thought that things had changed, that you had changed, that you didn't want me anymore."

Zevran captured her lips in his; he heard her sharp intake of breath and felt a small drop of water hit his chin. He pulled away and whipped the tears off her cheeks before running his hand down the side of her face. "Eriana, if anything, I want you too much, more than I could ever express with words. You are as radiant to me as Andraste herself was to the Maker, and nothing is ever going to change that, believe me. But seeing Taliesin again reminded me very clearly of what my life was like before, and it has forced me to examine what I feel for you. You must understand this, before this, before you, I was never truly allowed to feel sentiment or emotion of any type. As an assassin, I kept my heart cold in favor of the kill, never allowing anyone else in. The whores and Crows taught me well because until now, I have been able to simply take my pleasure where I could find them and merely enjoy life, nothing more. To expect more from the life I once lived would be reckless and foolish.

"I thought that things were that way between us, a pleasant diversion, nothing more, and though it is abundantly clear that we have been more than that for months now, I still managed to convince myself that we were merely enjoying life, capturing pleasure in the moment. After that day with Taliesin, I realized that I was just fooling myself."

Eriana's eyes remained locked on his as he spoke. She took a deep breath, "So, are you saying that you…that you love me?"

It was Zevran's turn to sigh, "Love…how could one such as I ever know anything about love?" Zevran, taking her head in his hands, looked deep into her eyes, "But that is exactly what I have been trying to figure out."

Eriana's eyes fell to the floor, and she shook her head. "That still doesn't explain why you left me last night, Zevran. If you're trying to decide how you feel about me, shouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Ah, my dear Warden, if it was only so simple, but being with you is such a distraction that I may never know how I truly feel. I want your body, that much is certain as the sun, and I desire your company, more than I have desired anything else in my life. I just want to make sure it's real. To me, sex and love have never necessarily gone together, so being with you in that way was very confusing all of a sudden. You mean more to me than anyone I have ever been with ever in my life; I just need to know how much more."

Eriana was quiet for a moment before she reached up to her ear and took out the diamond earring he had given her a few nights ago. Carefully she placed it into his hand. "I just don't feel right taking this, not right now, not while you're so confused about how you truly feel about me." She closed his hand around the jewelry. "Once you've figured out how you feel, you can give it back." She paused for a moment, fiddling with her ring, "if you still want to, of course."

"Eriana, this was a gift."

"I know, Zev, but I'd rather it be a token of affection." She sighed and turned toward the door, pausing just a moment to look back at him. "I won't push you again, Zevran. Take all the time and the space that you need. But, Zevran, I know how I feel." And with that she left him, holding the small diamond piece of jewelry in his hand, wondering if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

The Gnawed Noble Tavern was very crowed as many of the noblemen from across Fereldan hand descended upon Denerim for the landsmeet. Eriana recognized most of them and had business to conduct with many of them, but there was only one person she wanted to speak to, Ignacio. She, along with Ogren, Sten, and Morrigan, had just dealt with a Crow issue with Howe's men (doesn't trouble with this guy ever end?) and Eriana wanted to meet with Ignacio one more time before he left to return to Antiva. Leliana was waiting for her at the bar with a very expensive bottle of port, securely sealed with the vineyard's wax embalm, a must when dealing with those who regularly poison each other.

Ignacio smiled and rose to greet Eriana as she entered the room, kissing her lightly on each cheek. Seeing the wine, he produced two classes and motioned for his guards to exit; Eriana nodded at Ogren and Sten to do the same, leaving the two assassins alone.

"Well, my dear, I am quite sorry to say, we have come to an end of our business. It has been a pleasant surprise and a pleasure working with one as talented as you, and I hope to work again with you once all this unpleasantness with the Blight has passed. It is truly a shame that the Wardens found you first; you would have made and excellent Crow."

Eriana smiled, "Well, I already have one job with a life sentence; I'm not so sure that I'm ready to jump into another."

"Such a strong spirit, so like your mother in so many ways."

"Like my mother?"

"Ah, yes," said Ignacio, taking a drink of the wine and nodding in approval, "you are very like your mother. I assume that is what you came to talk about, yes?" Eriana nodded, taking a cautious drink as well. "So, my dear, what would you like to know?"

"Did you kill my mother?"

"No, I was in Denerim at the time, recruiting and procuring new clientele at the time, but no, I had nothing to do with her death. I had a great deal of respect for her, your mother; she was a dear friend and associate one upon a time."

"So you worked with her?"

"Yes, we worked quite closely for some time; your mother was a very talented bard and assassin in her youth. We worked under the same master. She was used when we needed close access to high profile or wealthy targets. We would place her in the household staff as a maid, a nanny, a mistress, something like that, and she would pass along vital information to us. She was quiet cleaver at manipulating and seducing human nobles."

"So what happened? Braxton said that she was given a job she refused to do."

Ignacio sighed, "Ah, yes. Danella was asked to work in the estate of a wealthy duchess, but in her time there, she grew close to the woman and her children. She had a weak heart, your mother, and she began to sympathize with the noblewoman. She came to us, begging us to rescind the contract, but of course, we could not. Our master laughed in her face and told her to do her job or she would find herself on the receiving end of a Crow dagger. Danella seemed to agree and return to the job at hand, but a week later, she was gone. She cost the Crows a great deal of time and money when she left and angered a lot of people."

"But she was gone for so long, why couldn't you just let her go."

"Some of us did. I, for one, did nothing upon arriving in Denerim and finding her living in the squalor if the Alienage. As you say, twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge."

Eriana was confused, "So if you didn't, then who did?"

"A colleague of mine was visiting when he recognized her. As I said, she angered many people, leaving as she did, and some never gave up looking for her. When he saw her, he acted immediately; I was sad to see it. Your mother was a friend to me; I was glad she found some happiness, however short it may have lasted."

Ignacio took another drink before he glanced back at her. "I get the feeling, though, that you did not just come to talk about your mother, no? All this you must have learned already from your bartender friend. You are worried about the implications on you, on something…closer to home. You are worried about what will become of that whoreson of yours."

Eriana sighed and finished her glass of wine. "I really wish you wouldn't refer to him as that, but yes, I'm worried about what will happen with Zevran."

Ignacio leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, "Well, my dear, you have a few options, assuming that you are planning on staying with him. Your first option is trying to hide from the Crows, but to do that, of course, you would have to leave the Wardens. I suppose you could both get some tattoos and join the Dalish."

Eriana laughed, "Ignacio, please, could you imagine Zevran living in the woods with the Dalish? He is far too accustomed to the pleasantries of the city, and if I have to say, so am I."

Ignacio chucked, "Well, you could move to Orlais and hide in Val Royeaus or work as mercenaries in the Free Marches, but both of those options would bring you in contact with both Wardens and Crows. If you agree to adopt the Quin, you could live quite well among the quinari in Sheron."

"None of those sound all that appealing, and I doubt I could leave the Wardens any time soon. In a way, it's like the Crows; you can't just walk away from the Wardens. What other options would we have?"

"Then you fight them off until they stop coming," Ignacio said with a wave of his hand.

Eriana was surprised. "Would they ever really stop?"

Ignacio shrugged, "If you kill enough of us, perhaps; there are not an unlimited supply of Crows after all. If you hold out long enough, the powers that be might get wise and stop sending people after you. Of course, there would always be the risk of a rogue Crow, one with a desire to prove himself by killing you, but if you can withstand the initial onslaught, you may just survive this."

"It only takes one, though."

Ignacio shrugged, "True, it only takes one. For my part, however, I hope you make it through this. Fereldan is far too interesting with you in it; it would be a shame to lose one as interesting as you over something or someone insignificant."

Eriana shrugged, "This whole discussion may just be a moot point anyway. I might just be fixating on a future that doesn't even exist."

Ignacio raised a questioning eyebrow at her. "Trouble between you two?" Eriana explained the situation to him, and to her surprise, Ignacio started laughing. "Ah, to be young again. Your Zevran is over thinking things far too much, but he will learn, of that, I am certain. I have seen enough of him to know how he truly feels, and I don't think there is anything that should concern you." He gave took her hands and gave them a quick kiss, "Just make sure you don't get yourself killed by any giant dragons while I'm off in Antiva. It would be a shame to lose an ally such as you."

Eriana smiled and thanked the assassin; deep down inside, she hoped he knew what he was talking about.

* * *

Zevran hated being left behind, especially when Eriana was doing anything that put her in contact with the Crows, but, despite his protests, he had stayed behind as she left to complete one final job for Ignacio. Her reasoning had been solid; there would be other Crows at the job, and it would be best for both of them if he didn't broadcast their companionship by fighting at her side. It didn't make watching her leave any easier. The fact that she had left without a word or so much as a nod didn't help either. Their conversation earlier that morning hadn't helped at all; if anything, it seemed to have made things worse. It had taken him a while, but he had finally figured out why. Before his confession of maybe I love you, maybe I don't, Eriana could have believed whatever she wanted about their relationship. Now, however, the ambiguity of Zevran's feelings were now crystal clear, and the fact that, after all this time, he still didn't know how he felt must have been hard for her to handle.

He sighed was about to turn his attention back to the poison-making supplies that were scattered on the table in front of him when Eriana walked in, flanked by Ogren and Sten. She plopped down on the couch, still clad in her drake scale armor and started massaging her temples.

"Rough day, my Warden?" Zevran tentatively asked.

"Hum, oh, no, everything went just fine. I've just got a lot on my mind, and it's giving me a bit of a headache, that's all."

"You carry your tension in your shoulders, Kadan," Sten offered as he helped himself to the plate of cookies. "Some hot water should help to relax that."

Zevran wondered how she would react if he was to get up and offer to work the knots out of her neck. As he was about to offer, Alistair entered the room and asked to speak with Eriana, Warden business, he claimed. The two wardens made their way to one of the corners of the room and began talking softly. The conversation looked tense for a moment until Eriana said something that made Alistair blush then give her a light, playful shove as they both laughed. Zevran watched the two talk from his periphery, a familiar, bitter feeling welling up in him. Suddenly, Eriana patted Alistair's chest, and he pulled her into a friendly hug. It was all plutonic; Zevran was sure of it, but that didn't make it any easier to see. Deep down, he realized that he deserved this; that it was all his fault, but that didn't stop the bitter feeling of envy from creeping up in his chest upon seeing Alistair with his arms around his Warden. As the two broke the embrace, Alistair said something else, and they both glanced over at him. Zevran saw Eriana shrug and shake her head as she looked back at the templar. "If he touches her again," Zevran thought to himself, "I might just render this landsmeet pointless."

"Oh, good, you're both here," a soft voice sang from the doorway. Zevran had never been so glad to see Anora in his life because her appearance instantly produced a gap between the two Wardens.

"Your Majesty," Eriana, always the professional, coolly replied. "It is an honor to see you this evening. I trust you have news on the alienage."

"Indeed, I do. Not only that, I will be able to provide you access to the Ailenage itself. I do hope you can find something useful in there. It has been in a terrible state for months now, ever since that elf killed the Arl's son." Zevran glanced at Eriana at these words as the color started to drain from her face. "But it seems a plague of some type has settled them down. The whole place had to be shut down and quarantined. Thank the Maker, it has remained isolated in the Ailenage, so no one else has gotten sick."

Eriana's face was completely white, but her voice was surprisingly strong and cold. "Yes, thank the Maker for that. We wouldn't want anyone of importance falling ill."

Anora smiled grimly at the snide comment, but chose to ignore it. Instead she placed the sealed documents on the desk beside the doorway. "Just show this to the guard, and he should permit four of you to enter. I do hope you find something helpful in there; it would be a shame for you to waste your time on nothing." And with that, she turned and sauntered out of the room.

Only then did Eriana allow any weakness to show. As soon as Anora was out of the room, Eriana swayed a bit before she began to collapse, taking deep, frantic breaths. Zevran was glad Alistair was close enough to her to catch her in his arms before she sank to the ground.

"No, please, Maker, no," she whispered to herself as Ogren moved to her side, handing her his flask. She closed her eyes and took a long drink of the dwarf's and got back on her feet. Ghe glanced up at Alistair. "We have to go tomorrow, Alistair, we have to see…"

Alistair pulled her into a quick hug. "Don't worry; I'm sure everything will be okay."

"How could you know that? People are dying, Alistair. My people are dying!"

"I know, I know, and we will do something about it."

"Okay, tomorrow. I just hope my family…" she shuddered, and couldn't finish her thought. Eriana shot Zevran a sad, desperate look before she retreated quickly from the room. He desperately wanted to go after her, to comfort her and assure her that everything was going to be alight, but something told him that his presence would be more harmful than his absence because he was not yet ready to tell her what she needed to hear. So for the second time that day, he let her go.

* * *

_Reviews and reviewers are loved and welcomed! The ailenage is coming up next._


	31. Zevran and Alistair 31

Zevran looked cautiously over at Eriana as she spoke with a young, red-headed elven woman who was apparently her cousin, though Zevran couldn't see any family resemblance. Eriana's face was drawn, anger and stress clearly painted across her delicate features as she listened to Shianni's account of the trouble facing the Alienage. The more Shianni spoke, the more tense Eriana seemed to become, her hands balled into fists as she rolled up on the balls of her feet as if she was about to spring into action. He was so focused on Eriana that he almost missed an important piece of information.

"Oh, cousin, you have no idea…the things that happened after your wedding," Shianni sighed, "I'm babbling aren't I? I'm just so happy to see you."

Zevran spoke before he could stop himself. "A wedding? So there is a secretive side to you after all."

Eriana flinched slightly when she heard his voice, then she shook her head and looked back at him. "It's not exactly something I like to talk about, Zev," she said as she fiddled with the ring on her left hand.

"I see," he answered quietly, his eyes locked on the plain silver ring she was playing with, her wedding ring. Was her husband among those who had disappeared into the hospice, never to return? Was that was so upsetting to her, why she was so reluctant to return to the Alienage? Perhaps she was ashamed to return to him with Zevran, evidence of her infidelity, in tow. A near-crippling feeling of betrayal and jealousy welled up in his chest as he stared at her back as she turned back to her cousin. Why would she keep this from him after everything that she had told him? All of a sudden, it was difficult for him to concentrate. All he wanted to do was find this man, her husband, and…what? What would he do then? Kill him? Apologize? Did he hate him, this unknown man who was married to his Warden; was he envious of him and his good fortune of securing her love? Yes and yes. Suddenly, his feelings for her no longer mattered; she had a life to return to, a life apart from him. Suddenly, he was no longer needed, and that fact made him sick.

Eriana's voice suddenly broke him from his deliberations. "Here," she said, as handed Zevran her sword, "I'm going in."

"You're what?"

"I'm going to those mages to see what they're doing. I'm getting in that hospice." She turned to her cousin. "Isn't there a side entrance to that building, around by the alley?" Shianni nodded slowly. "Good, I want you to take them over there while I get inside."

"What?" Zevran snapped harshly. "Have you been listening to your cousin at all? People go in there and never come out. Please tell me you realize what is going on here."

Eriana glared at him. "Of course I realize what's going on. Why do you think I want to get inside? I need proof of this," she snapped at him. Then her stern face dropped as did her voice. "I have to get them back; they're my friends, my neighbors…my father," she almost whispered. "If they are after strong elves, they'll take me in a heartbeat. Then I'll have proof."

Zevran shook his head, "Then you'll be dead or captured. Let me go in first, and you lead the others in through the side."

Eriana looked at him for a moment, her face stern. "No, we do this my way. This is my home, my mess, and I'm going to fix it. Just get in there to back me up as quickly as possible, got it?" Zevran sighed and nodded; there was no talking her out of this one. "Good, then I'll see you inside," and with that she disappeared into the crowd, headed toward the mages at the entrance to the hospice. Zevran sighed, this day was not turning out at all like he had expected.

"Maker's breath," Shianni said once they reached the relative seclusion of the alley, "What happened to her?" Zevran and Ogren looked over at her, confused looks on her faces. "Is she always so forceful?"

Zevran laughed for a moment. "She's your cousin, surely you know by now how normal this behavior is for her."

Shianni shook her head, "No it this isn't like her at all. I mean all my life I've been standing up for her, and she's been letting people just walk all over her. I've never seen her just take command like that. I mean, she let those noble shems walk all over her for years, and Soris and I had to take care of her. How long has she been like this?"

Zevran and Ogren glanced back at Wynne as she spoke up. "I met her just after she joined the order, and I remember being impressed by how she conducted herself in camp at Ostagar with such confidence. Perhaps simply being forced to leave home changed her more than we realized."

Zevran tried to imagine a docile, passive Eriana, and found it quite difficult. She was always so strong, so in control. He couldn't imagine an Eriana who was willing to hand over the reins to anyone or to allow anyone to stand up for her. What happened between here and Ostagar that changed her so much? How was it that he knew so little about a woman with whom he had spent so much time? Just then, he heard shouting inside the building. His Warden needed him.

So he thought. It turns out, Eriana didn't need him nearly as much as he imagined. It took him only a few seconds to pick the simple lock on the door, but by the time he and his companions entered, after ordering Shianni to remain in the alley, Eriana had killed most of the guards in the building. A ring of dead bodies lay around her as she stood in the center of the room, her hands clutching a pair of daggers that were slowly dripping blood. Her eyes were closed, and she was taking deep, even breaths, obviously trying to calm herself. Zevran heard Shianni gasp when she entered the building and saw her cousin standing in the chaos like the goddess of vengeance. Slowly, Zevran crossed the room.

She looked up, her eyes full of tears. "Slavers," she said in a hoarse whisper. "There's an order form on that desk requesting specifics." Her breaths started coming more quickly. "My father has been taken by slavers."

Her daggers clattered to the floor as Zevran pulled her to him. "We will get him back, mia cara," he whispered, hoping his words were more than empty platitudes."

"Warden," Ogren called from the back of the room. "You may want to take a look at this."

Eriana and Zevran darted across the room to find a cell full of elves. Several of the cells inhabitants shouted out surprised greetings to Eriana when they recognized her. "My father, have any of you seen my father?"

"Yeah, he was taken out of here a day or two ago. They take people out those back doors into the building out back," one of the elves answered.

Eriana seemed to steady herself. "Let's go get my father back."

* * *

Alistair spent most of the day pacing up and down the front hall of Eamon's estate, waiting for Eriana and the party's return. He still wasn't used to letting her leave without him, even though she had preferred the company of Zevran and Ogren since they left Orzammar months ago. But this thing with Zevran had upset her, shaken her up more than she would ever admit, and now she was back in the ailenage, the home that she had been forced to leave, the home that had been closed to her for months. He knew her well enough to know that this trip would not be easy for her. As long as he had know her, the blond elf would tense up whenever they spoke of her past, and then, she would only share vague details. The only thing she would ever really talk about was killing Vaughan, and even then, the details were always fuzzy. Most times she would simply grow quiet, remembering who knows what about her former life. Alistair sighed. Until recently, it was the only time she allowed him to see any true weakness, the only time he had ever seen a crack in that strong shell she wore. Now she was back there and there was nothing he could do to help her. She had asked him to stay behind, asking Ogren to take his former position at his side.

When the estate doors swung open, Alistair immediately knew something was terribly wrong. Eriana's face was completely vacant, her usually stern, calculating eyes seemed empty, unseeing. Alistair stepped forward, about to speak to her, when Ogren discretely lifted a hand and shook his head. Zevran shot him a cool glance as he ushered the dazed elf through the entryway.

"What happened in there," Alistair asked as he followed Ogren into the kitchen.

"I'm afraid it wasn't pretty," Wynne answered as she followed the men into the kitchen.

"Not pretty, it was a sodding disaster in there," grumbled Ogren as he sat down and pulled out his flask. "At least in Orzammar, we just ignore the castles; not like you surfacers."

Alistair pulled a chair up beside the dwarf as Ogren began to explain what happened that day. The party tracked the slavers through a series of buildings and alleyways, leading to the docks across the city. Eriana was relentless and deadly, never sheathing her daggers as they worked their way through the city. "I swear, Alistair, if I didn't know better, I would have sworn she was possessed by a rage demon of some kind. She showed no mercy, even when those low-lives begged for it. I've never seen her so violent before," Ogren explained.

Ogren explained how they finally found the leader of the group along with several cages of elves in a warehouse by the wharfs. They were planning on smuggling them out of the city and up to the slave markets in the Tevinter Imperium. A long battle ensured with Calabrius, the blood mage leader of the slavers. "You should have seen her, Alistair; it was like watching some Dalish goddess out there. And then, the sodding mage has the nerve to offer her a bargain. He wants to take the elves in exchange for evidence proving Loghain authorized all this. When she refused, he offered to perform some blood ritual for her that would kill all the elves they had captured."

"What did she say?" Alistair asked, aghast.

"I believe it was something along the lines of, 'These are my friends, my family you sodding moron. If you think for one second that I would let you harm a single one of them, you must be out of your mind.' Then she walked up to him, drove a dagger into his chest and said, 'Enjoy the Black City you Tevienter son of a bitch!' Then she cut off his head in one fluid motion, and for good measure, she kicked it clear across the room before she dropped her daggers and collapsed to the floor in a mess of tears."

"Sweet Maker, the poor thing. But the elves survived; you got them back?"

Wynne shook her head, "Not all of them. Many were gone long before we arrived in the city."

"We did find her father, though." Ogren explained. As soon as Eriana collapsed to the floor, Zevran rushed to her side, cradling her as she cried. From the cell behind them, they heard a tentative voice cry out, "Ana?" Eriana leapt to her feet and spun around, "Ada?" An older elf was making his way to the front of the cage, tears in his eyes. Eriana gave a muffled cry and bolted to the cell door and threw herself into the arms of the elven man. They both sank to the floor, crying as Cyrion Tabris embraced the daughter who he believed was long dead, and Eriana Tabris embraced the father who she believed had been lost to her forever. They remained that way for a long time, as Wynne, Ogren, and Zevran helped the other elves out of their confinement and tended to any wounds. Once everyone was ready, the party escorted the elves back to the now plague-free alienage.

"It was sweet to see," Wynne said, "Cyrion couldn't take his eyes off Eriana, and it was like she was a child again, affixed to her father's arm, refusing to let go, even for a moment. He chided her for being too thin, and she questioned him, making sure he was taking care of himself."

Alistair was happy for her, but he was confused as well. "It sounds like everything worked out alright, so why was she so upset when you all got back?"

Wynne shook her head. "As we were leaving, we were approached by a bitter, young woman. I believe Eriana called her Elva."

The party had been on the verge of leaving when Elva approached them, a fierce anger in her eyes. "So the spoiled princess of the Alienage returns to save the day," Elva spat at her, bitterly. "Now you will be a hero and everyone will forget this was all your fault to begin with. If you had only let Vaughan have his way, none of this would have ever happened, but no, you have to play hero and now look where it's got us. Every death in this Alienage is your fault." Eriana tried to reason with her, but the bitter woman would have none of it. "The guards would have left us alone if you would have been properly punished, but no, keep everyone's favorite little elf around. Who cares about the rest of us, huh?" Then, out of nowhere, Elva produced a dagger, little more than a kitchen knife and threw herself at Eriana. Zevran moved to step between them, but Eriana's reflexes were too fast. She pulled out one of her own daggers and the angry woman dropped to the ground.

"That's when Eriana seemed to lose it," Ogren said. "She kept looking down at that woman saying, 'It's all my fault, all my fault.' We weren't quite sure how to pull her out of it, so we brought her back here."

Alistair sighed. He wanted to be near her, to help her through this. He silently prayed that Zevran was doing just that, that he wasn't making things worse.

* * *

Eriana didn't seem to hear the door close when Zevran came back into the room. She just sat, staring blankly into the fire. Zevran tried to process what she was going through. True, finding out that you father had been taken by slavers while your friends and neighbors were dying in the streets had to be traumatic, but her panic and despair started before they encountered the mages. It seemed to hit her the day before when Anora warned her about the uprisings that the guards had been forced to quell since she left, and that whole situation with Elva made it so much worse.

Shaking his head, Zevran crossed the room and knelt beside the Warden. He reached out, placing a hand on her narrow shoulder to comfort her, and she melted into his side, breaking down and babbling incoherently.

"Should have let them have me…all my fault...just had to be the hero, get revenge...should have just let them keep me," she sobbed into his chest.

Zevran wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry. Never before had she seemed so vulnerable, so breakable, so young. She was only 18, but she had always carried herself with such maturity and wisdom that it was easy to forget how young she truly was. But now, in his arms, she seemed like a child who needed his protection. Slowly, he picked her up and placed her on the bed, her head was resting on his chest as she continued to cry, clinging to his tunic like it was a life line. Her breathing started to slow as she, in sheer exhaustion, drifted into a fitful sleep.

Zevran, however, was nowhere near falling asleep. His mind was racing with questions and doubts. Only once had he ever come close to feeling this way about someone, and that turned into a disaster. Everything that he had ever learned screamed against this. No, he cannot love her; he cannot allow himself that kind of vulnerability. All love and affection had been beaten out of him early on, yet, no matter how much his conditioning made him want to run, he was inexplicitly drawn to the sleeping woman in his arms. She was so like him in many ways. Stealthy, deadly, and hardened through a lifetime of struggle, but while he had learned to close others out, she remained open and vulnerable.

"No, not open," he thought bitterly to himself. She had hidden her past, even from him. She was married! Not that it would have stopped his advances, but why hadn't she told him. She had told him so much, even about the embarrassing abuse she had endured for so long. Why would she keep this to herself. Again the doubts began to plague him. Perhaps she was planning to return to him, to leave Zevran and make for herself a normal life, the life she deserved and he could never give her. He was just a fling, a way to occupy her time until she returned to the one she truly loved. It was almost too much for him to bear.

Jealousy washed over him, and again he found himself resenting this unknown elf waiting for his Warden to return. His true feelings were suddenly very clear to him. If he didn't love her, why else would he feel this way? In his confusion, he had pushed her away, but now, everything was becoming very clear.

Suddenly, Eriana's little body gave a quick jerk and her head shot up, her big blue eyes wide with panic. "Shhh, my Warden, you are safe," Zevran whispered as he tightened his arms around her.

"Oh, Zev," she said, breathlessly, allowing herself to relax in his arms. "Thank the Maker you're here. I dreamt they had taken you too," she said as she buried her head into his chest.

"No, my dear, I am still here," he whispered reassuringly as he rolled her over onto her back. Looking down at her, he gently kissed her forehead. "Returning home was quite troubling, no? Many things had changed."

"I could have prevented so much of this," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I brought so much trouble on my people."

"How could this be your fault?" asked Zevran, brushing a wayward hair off her forehead. "You told me that you would have been killed if you had stayed, no?" She sighed, almost afraid to meet Zevran's eyes. "I never told you the whole story about why I left, have I? I mean, I told you about killing Vaughan, but you've never heard the whole story." Zevran shook his head.

"My last day in the Alienage was my wedding day. My father arranged a marriage for me with a man from Highever. I only met Nelaros, my betrothed, the morning of the wedding, and I realized how hard my father had worked to give me a good life. He was strong, handsome, and so kind. When I finally met him, my nerves about the wedding vanished. I realized that he would be able to provide for me and protect me. After my mother died, I had to take on so much responsibility; I thought that he would be able to take the pressure off me, that finally, someone would take care of me. It wouldn't be an easy life, but it would have been secure."

"So what happened?"

Eriana sighed, "Vaughan decided to crash our wedding. Shianni had angered him, and he wanted to teach us knife ears a lesson. He was going to take us back to his estate and…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. "I was about to step up and suggest that he take me; none of the other women had ever been taken. I wanted to spare them from what I've been through. Nelaros pulled me back and tried to put himself between me and the human men. Vaughan laughed and made some joke about the futility of trying to protect me before he knocked both of us out."

Zevran listened as she explained how the guards killed one of her friends before Soris showed up to rescue them then how she and her cousin fought their way through the estate after the other women. Then she clammed up for a moment.

"We rounded a corner and there was Nelaros, surrounded by four or five guards. Soris and I rushed to his side, but he fell before we reached him. We weren't fast enough…I wasn't fast enough." Eriana sobbed and Zevran held her tightly. "I cradled his head, trying desperately to stop his bleeding. His breathing was ragged, and he looked up at me, brining his hand to my face. I clutched his hand as he whispered, 'I'm so sorry.' Then he was gone."

"At that moment, my future died with him. The life that I had dreamed of was gone. With his blood still wet on my hands, I went after Vaughan. When he saw me, my wedding dress drenched with the blood of his guards, he begged me to spare him. He offered me money and freedom to spare his life, but I would have none of it. I killed him, not because of his cruelty, but I wanted vengeance. He had taken my future, so I would take his. I knew the guards would kill me and probably Soris if I did. I knew the ramifications for the alienage, but I didn't care. I put my own anger and hate before what was best for my people. My need for revenge brought them so much pain." She buried her head in Zevran's tunic, tears starting anew.

"All this to avenge a man? You must have truly loved him, no?"

Eriana looked up at him and shook her head. "No, I didn't love him. I loved the idea of him, of a life where I was protected wholly and completely. I mean he risked his life for me, and he had only just met me. I wanted a life where it didn't fall on me to make the decisions." She laughed a bit through her tears. "That worked out great, huh? I'm just the Warden Commander of Fereldan with a blight to stop, a king to crown, and a tyrant to oust. No pressure, huh?"

"Not to mention a dwarf to keep sober, other than that, not a bit of responsibility."

Eriana smiled and nuzzled into his chest. "I actually thought being a warden would take some pressure off me. Why would a young elven woman ever be called on to lead? I mean Duncan and Alistair, even the other Wardens, seemed protective of me. It was nice. I mean, my cousins always tried to protect me, but I always felt so helpless."

"I don't really like to talk about what happened with Nealros because I don't like to linger on what happened. If I had been forceful, none of this would have happened." She sighed. "I guess it made me realize that the Maker intends for me to be my own protector. If that moment taught me anything, it taught me that I couldn't look for others to lead, it only ends up hurting them. I can't look for others to step in and rescue me either. I have to do this alone."

Zevran pulled her close and lightly stroked her back, taking a moment to absorb everything she had said. "Zev, I know you've been working through your feelings. Take all the time you need. I just wanted to thank you for being here with me today. This would have been so much harder without you beside me. Seeing the alienage today just stirred up a lot of feelings I thought I'd already dealt with."

"Of course, My Warden. I am yours, whatever you need," he whispered as he lightly kissed her forehead.

Zevran continued to hold her as she drifted back to sleep. This little woman-child, so strong yet so frail. If he ever truly had any doubts, they were gone now. She needed him to protect her, to stand up and defend her as she had defended him on countless occasions. He hadn't even paused to kill his former best friend for her, why doubt it now? She needed a defender, and he would be that defender. He would stand up to those who would try to harm her. He would be her rock in a world or turmoil. He would go with her to the end.

He loved her, wholly and completely, without a doubt, he loved her.

"I will go forever with you, My Warden," Zevran whispered to the sleeping elf. "Even to the gates of the Black City itself."

With that Zevran drifted into a peaceful sleep, holding the woman he loved in his arms.

* * *

_Well, we're coming up to the end of the Origins story line, and I was planning on continuing through Awakenings. I'm just not sure if I should do it in a second story, or if I shoud just continue this one. What do you all think? Again, reviews are loved and appreciated!_


	32. Eriana 32

Eriana plopped down on the couch beside Alistair, a big grin on her face. "So, Al, are you about to go stir crazy in here?"

"Asks my warden," he answered, looking back at her. "Seriously, Eriana, how long are you planning on keeping me locked up in this estate? I mean, I feel like I'm back in the Chantry, and I'm being punished for something."

Eriana laughed and ruffled his hair a bit. "Not my doing, Alistair. You know Eamon doesn't want to let you out before the Landsmeet. He's afraid that something might happen to you. There are a lot of people who are still out to get you."

"To get us; it's not exactly safe for you either out there, you know?"

"Well, we both can't be locked in here," she said with a grin. She patted him gently on the shoulder. "I know it's been tough on you; that's why I'm proposing a, well, a jail break of sorts. Riordan told me about a secret Grey Warden vault in the market place, just full of Grey Warden secrets. I thought that the three of us should go and check it out. What do you think?"

Alistair grinned, "If it gets me out of this house, I'm in."

"I thought you'd say that. Now get changed and meet me and Riordan in the entryway in twenty minutes," Eriana said, as she got up and headed for the door. There was a definite spring in her step that had been missing for the past few days. Waking up in Zevran's arms after the tumultuous few days they had experienced was reinvigorating for her. She didn't realize how accustomed to his presence she had become, how heavily she had come to rely on him to merely fall asleep each night, or how she missed his warm smell in the morning. Eriana smiled at her own foolishness. Three nights alone should not have been that upsetting to her, but she was in deep and there was no denying her feelings for the Antivan assassin. But last night had been wonderful; sleeping the entire night in the secure circle of Zevran's arms once again had given her fresh vigor and made the trials and stresses of the day melt seem to away.

After a quick breakfast, Eriana made her way into the entryway to wait for her fellow Wardens when she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. Smiling to herself, she leaned back into Zevran's strong embrace. "So, my Warden, what is on our agenda for today?" he asked, his warm breath caressing the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

"Well, after I get back from the vault, I'd like to go back to the Alienage. We only have two days till the Landsmeet, and I want to spend some time with my family before then. I was thinking…Oh, Zevran."

Zevran seemed to be paying little to no attention to what she was saying; he seemed, instead, to be quite focused on the back of her neck as his lips caressed her soft skin and earlobe. She shivered as his lips began to move down her neck toward her shoulder, lingering momentarily on her collarbone. She felt his hands move on her waist as he turned her around to face him, his lips never once breaking contact with her warm skin as they moved up to her lips. "You were saying something, mia cara; something about the Alienage, no?" Zevran muttered with a laugh.

"Sorry, I got a bit distracted." Eriana said as she wrapped her arms around his waist as she looked up at him. There was something different in his look; there was a fire there, but it wasn't the same hungry passion that was usually there. No, this time there was something deeper, something warmer moving behind his honey colored eye, and for a moment, she allowed herself to hope that the look meant that he had resolved his feelings for her. Then Zevran's gaze moved behind her as he started to chuckle. Turning around she saw Alistair coming down the steps, decked out in Warden Commander armor.

"Um, Alistair, we're supposed to be discrete."

"Yeah? So?"

Eriana laughed, Zevran's arms still wrapped around her, "Well, we're still wanted criminals, so walking around with griffons emblazoned on your chest probably isn't the best idea, don't you think?" Alistair agreed with a laugh and turned to return to his room to change out of the griffon armor. "Hey, and don't put on that gold armor of Cailan's either, save that for the Landsmeet."

Alistair stopped dead and turned back to her, "Are you serious? Do you really want me to wear that, I mean it's shinny and pretentious."

"It's kingly, and I'm still calling the shots, so yes, you're wearing it," Eriana said with a grin. "And don't forget a helm; we can't have people recognizing your handsome face, now can we?"

The two elves watched as the soon to be king made his way back up the stairs before Zevran looked down at her. "Are you sure you want to return to the Alienage so soon? I know yesterday was difficult for you, and I have to say, I'm rather surprised you are so willing to return there."

She leaned against his shoulder for a moment. "I had to face down a lot of ghosts yesterday," she said with a sigh. "I can't say it was easy, but it is my home. I can't just walk away from the mistakes I made there. You know, I never left Denerim before Duncan recruited me, and I had never been apart from my family. I didn't realize how much I would miss my father or how much I did miss him until I saw him yesterday." She glanced up at him with a smile. "I guess someone was keeping me good and distracted."

"Or maybe I was keeping you so happy that you forgot to miss him," he said, giving her a light kiss on the forehead.

"Uhg, don't you two ever stop?" Alistair muttered as he made his way down the steps with Riordan.

The two elves looked at each other and grinned; Eriana sure hoped not.

* * *

Finding the hidden Warden cache had been relatively easy given Eriana's intimate knowledge of the area. The room was relatively small, but contained a descent assortment of armor, potions, and even a few books chronicling the history of the Wardens. The three split up and began sorting through the supplies. "You know, Alistair, this would have been really helpful when we first started out," Eriana commented, sorting through several sets of armor and weapons. All their current armor was of better quality than most of the things they found, but some of it would fetch a descent amount of coin in the market. She glanced over at Riordan who was struggling with a chest. "Do you need help with that?"

"Yeah, I'm not much of a lock picker," he said, straightening up, "and I think that these are joining supplies."

Eriana hoped so. It would be nice to be able to make new Wardens before they made their final push against the archdemon. Quickly she picked the lock and opened the case. "Well?"

Riordan frowned. "It looks like we have enough for one, maybe two joinings at best. Most of our stash must be in the compound in the palace, then."

Well, that was a bummer. There was no telling what Loghain had done to the compound or the supplies they stored there. With a disappointed sigh, Eriana turned back to the weapons she had been sorting through when the inscription on one shield caught her attention. "Alistair," she said with a smile, "Come over here and look at this." She handed the shield to him, "Do you recognize this?"

"Maker's breath, is this…it is. This is Duncan's shield."

"I thought so. Didn't you say you always wanted something of his, something to remember him by?" Alistair grinned like a child during winter solstice. "Well?"

"Eriana," he said, capturing her in a huge hug. "You really want me to have this? Really?"

Eriana laughed, "Of course. I know how much this means to you, and what would I do with a shield anyway? I'd probably fall over backwards if I tried to wear that on my back." She lightly touched his face, whipping away the tears that were starting to fall down his cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I just can't help but wonder if we're doing the right thing here. I mean, Wardens aren't supposed to be involved in politics. I just can't help but wonder if Duncan would be proud of us."

"Alistair, I think Duncan would be very proud. I mean, look at all we've done this past year. We've called together all of our allies in the midst of civil war while dodging assassination attempts and darkspawn attacks. We gathered an army to defeat the blight and defend this nation when we could have fled and joined the Wardens from other nations to await the blight on foreign shores. Duncan was close to your father right?" Alistair nodded. "He would have been proud of us for standing and defending Fereldan and not running and doing what was easy."

Alistair sighed, "I just wish he was here." He glanced up at her and took her hand. "You know, I can't help but wonder what things might have been like if things had been different, if Duncan and the Wardens and Cailan hadn't all died at Ostagar. What would have happened with us."

"Well, you and I would be just two Wardens in this fight against the blight."

"And there would be no my being king or any of that. Do you think things might have been different between us?"

"Alistair…"

"No, no, just think a moment. I mean, if I was just Alistair and you were just Eriana, how would things have been different? I guess you would have had a lot more options though; there were a lot of us after all."

Eriana sighed, "Yes, if Cailan hadn't died, things would have been very different with us, Alistair, but that wasn't what the Maker destined, was it? You are going to be king, and nothing can change that."

"But why did that have to change things with us? I'm not naïve; I remember how things changed after we woke Eamon up. You never looked at me the same after that, why?"

"Alistair, imagine what would have happened if we had stayed on that path, if we had stayed together. Where would we be now? You would still be the future king, and I would still be an elf, only now, we would both stand to lose a lot." Alistair looked down at her confused. "Look, Alistair, I cared for you back then, a lot, but I knew this day would come. And if we had stayed together, this would have been the end for us, and you know it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm an elf, Alistair. The nobility would have never accepted me at your side, you know this. Plus, I'm a Grey Warden which means I would never be able to provide you with the one thing a king needs."

"An heir?"

"An heir. So you would have been forced to put me aside." When he started to protest, Eriana stopped him. "No, it's true and you know it. You would have had to break up with me, you would have resented yourself for doing it, resented Eamon for making you, and resented me for making you king."

"So you saw this coming, and that's why you ended it?" Eriana nodded. "So this thing with Zevran then, it is the real thing, or was it a distraction?"

Eriana sighed, "I think it started as a distraction. I mean, he was just a friend back then, but now, I like to hope it's more. I mean, it's more to me, at least."

"So, you're happy then, with Zevran?"

Eriana nodded, "I really am, Alistair, and I know you don't exactly like to hear that."

Alistair pulled her into a hug, "No, I'm glad that you've found happiness in this, even if it's not with me. And who knows, maybe I'll find happiness with Anora."

Eriana stifled a laugh, "And if not, you'll be the King, which gives you certain freedoms not available to the average man. I'm sure Zevran could give you some suggestions."

"Ugh, I don't want to think about any advice he might want to send my way."

"Why not, I assure you, he's very talented in that area."

Alistair put his fingers in his ears, "I'm not listening, lalalala."

Eriana laughed as they collected their new things and began to make their way back to Eamon's estate.

* * *

Eriana was completely expecting to find Zevran in the foyer when they returned, but she was pleasantly surprised to see that he wasn't alone.

"Ada!" she shouted as soon as the three Wardens entered the estate and quickly ran across the room, throwing herself into her father's arms, ignoring the laughter of Zevran and her two cousins. She pulled back and looked up at his pale blue eyes and smiled. "What are you doing here? Isn't the alienage still quarantined off?"

"Well, a funny thing happened after you left; it seems once the mages disappeared, so did the plague. There's not a trace of sickness anywhere, thanks to you, da'len. It seems that once again, we owe you a great deal."

"If only I had come sooner," Eriana said burying her head into her father's chest.

He kissed her forehead, "You came soon enough. I'm just so happy to see you again, my Ana. When we heard about Ostagar…" he shook his head, unable to finish his thought. "But that's all in the past, now. You are here and we are safe. I was hoping that you and your friends would come for dinner tomorrow night."

"Oh, Ada, that's a wonderful idea. Zevran and I can spend the day with you and the rest can come in the evening. But can't you stay now?"

"I'm afraid not, my sweet. There is much to do now that everyone is healing and with Valendrian taken, but we will spend time together tomorrow, dearest, I promise."

* * *

Eriana and Shianni were standing over the large sink in the only home she had ever known, carefully peeling a huge stack of potatoes when Zevran and Soris returned from the market place with several loves of freshly baked bread. After depositing their purchases on the table, Zevran moved in behind Eriana, his arms circling her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. "Hum, my dear, I never realized you were so domestic. Just look at you, when you have an actual kitchen around you, you turn into a regular housewife," he said with a chuckle.

"Just because I don't cook well over an open campfire doesn't mean I can't cook," she said, giving him a light peck on the cheek before turning her attention back to the vegetables.

Soris plopped down on the couch beside Cyrion, "So, Zevran, how did you come to join my cousin on her quest."

Eriana grinned as she glanced over her shoulder at Zevran. "Well," he said, "I joined her party a few months after the battle of Ostagar when she spared my life."

"Spared your life? Do you mean rescue you?"

"No, he means spared," Eriana said, turning around a whipping her hands dry on a towel. "Zevran was hired to kill me; when he failed, he offered to help me in return for his life. I accepted, and one thing led to another, and here we are."

"Wait a second." Cyrion said, eyeing Zevran carefully. "He tried to kill you?" Eriana nodded. "And you spared his life." Eriana nodded again. "And now you're…seeing him." Eriana laughed.

"Yes, Ada, and if it makes you feel any better, he hasn't tried to kill me since then. If anything, he's done a fantastic job of keeping me alive." Eriana explained, ignoring Shianni's giggling behind her. "Dad, don't worry; I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Cyrion shook his head. "I have no doubt about that, my daughter. It's just a bit of a shock, that's all."

Eriana crossed the room and sat down on her father's lap, her arms around his neck. "Do you trust me, Ada?"

"Of course, da'len."

"Then trust Zevran, and trust me, Zevran is probably the least of your concerns." Cyrion raised an eyebrow at her. "But that is a discussion for a more serious time," she said, kissing his wrinkled cheek.

Cyrion sighed and stood up, putting his daughter on her feet. "You are so like your mother, my dear; it warms my heart to look at you. Sometimes I forget how much of her strength you have. Our nation is lucky to have you as our defender, and the alienage is lucky to have you as our savior. I am proud of you, child of my heart. You have had to bear so much for one so young; I wish I could take some of the pressure from you."

"Keep yourself safe; that will be enough for me."

Cyrion turned from his daughter, whipping a tear from his eye, and looked at Zevran. "And you, young man, she is a precious thing. Cherish her." Then he almost whispered, "Protect her." Zevran nodded to Cyrion before turning to Eriana and extending a hand to her.

"Let's go for a walk," he whispered to her, leading her out into the warm light of the alienage. She slid her arm into his as they walked side by side through the bustling streets. They stopped beneath the shade of the Vhenadahl that grew in the center of the town square, Zevran's arms wrapped tightly around her.

"I always loved this tree. It always seemed like a sanctuary; I actually used to climb it when I was little and just sit and watch the alienage move beneath me. I always found peace here even when things were at their worst."

"It is rare to find something so lovely in the midst of such misery and squalor." Zevran said, looking down at her.

"It is a lovely tree."

Zevran took gently took her chin and moved her face so that he could look into her eyes. "I wasn't talking about the tree. Seeing you here surrounded by all this sadness makes me glad that Duncan conscripted you. You deserve more, more than this alienage can offer you, more than I could ever hope to offer you, but I intend to try to give you everything you deserve."

Eriana smiled and rested her head against his shoulder, "As long as you're here, I have everything I want; I hope you know that."

Zevran's arms tightened momentarily around her as he looked down at her. "I have been acting like a child, I know, but this has all been so confusing to me. Never before have I had to deal with feelings like this before; I wasn't actually sure I was capable of this depth of emotion. I thought the Crows had beaten it out of me, so when I started feeling this way about you…I don't know. It frightened me, so I denied it for a long time, unwilling to risk admitting the truth."

He glanced down at her, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I don't want to deny it any more, mi amora. The reward far outweighs the risks." As he spoke, he pulled the diamond earring out of his pocket. "You returned this to me, saying that you would prefer it if it was a token of affection. What if it was something more?"

Eriana looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. "What do you mean, something more?"

"What if it was a promise, a promise of the future, a future together?"

Eriana smiled, "Zevran, are you proposing to me?"

"I suppose, so, yes. I want you in my life, Eriana Tabris, now and forever, and I am sorry that it has taken me so long to admit that. You have awoken in me something I thought was long dead, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it. I am yours, now and forever." And with that, Zevran kissed her, pulling her close, ignoring the business of the alienage as it moved around them. Eriana's heart welled up in her chest. He loved her; he wanted to be with her. Slowly and reluctantly, Zevran broke the kiss. "So is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course, yes." Eriana said as Zevran put the earring back in her ear. She glanced down at her left hand for a moment before removing the ring that had adorned it for so long. "Here," she said, placing it in his hand. He glanced up at her, confused. "I want you to have this."

"Your wedding ring?"

"Yes and no. It was meant to be a wedding ring, but in a way it's meant more to me than that. This ring was a constant reminder to me of what happens to me when I let my guard down, when I turn to someone else rather than relying on myself. I have worn it to remind me not to trust in others to do things alone, but now, I don't feel that way anymore."

"If I have it my way, you will never feel that way again, amora. I will be by your side, now and always," Zevran said as they stood there, content in each other's arms, content in this moment of peace.

* * *

_I'll probably have two or three more updates on this story. I have appreciated all the reviews and sweet comments from everyone. This has been the first thing I've written since high school, and after rereading the first few chapters, I'm amazed any of you stayed around this long. Hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing._


	33. Zevran 33

Eriana had once tried to explain to Zevran the difference between joy and pleasure. Zevran remembered the conversation well; they had been sitting on a cold mountain top in Haven, waiting for dark to fall so that they could sneak past a dragon and talking about Zevran's past. It was one of the first times he had opened up to her about his past and his feelings. She had tried to explain to him the difference between joy and pleasure, saying that pleasure was something temporary, found in a moment of bliss. Joy, on the other hand, was something that lasted, a feeling that made you content and whole inside. At the time, Zevran didn't quite understand the distinction; he just thought she was being idealistic as she often was. However, after spending an evening with her and her family, the distinction became very clear to him. This was joy, and this was far better than any moment of temporary pleasure could ever be.

Zevran had never really experienced the whole family thing before. Being raised communally by a group of whores never afforded him the opportunity to see what a real family looked like, so it was interesting to watch the four elves as they interacted with each other. The love between them was so easy, so effortless that it was like breathing for them. One moment, Soris and Eriana would be bickering about her cooking or insulting each other, and in the next moment, they would be laughing and embracing. He watched as Shianni and Eriana put the final touches on dinner, enjoying the sound of their laughter, especially Eriana's light-hearted giggling. But the moments between Eriana and her father were Zevran's favorites. Cyrion would just gaze at her when he thought no one was watching, his eyes full of pride and love for his youngest child. Inevitability, Eriana would catch his gaze and laugh, dashing across the room to plant a kiss on her father's cheek or to sit beside him while he talked to her.

The love in the Tabris household was palpable to every member of their party, but it wasn't like a blanket that warmed only those it covered. Their love was like a fire, warming everyone in the room. Everyone softened in the presence of the Tabris family, even their battle-hardened qunari. Sten was almost smiling as he sampled the various cookies and sweets offered up by Shianni, and he called her a true artist in the kitchen. Alistair laughed and told stories about their travels, bragging about Eriana's skills as a fighter. And Ogren even managed to stay sober for most of the evening, until he and Soris got into a drinking contest. Of course, that was after Soris made a fool of himself while flirting with Leliana who had allowed Shianni to braid her hair in an elaborate style. Even Morrigan seemed to be enjoying herself in almost a begrudging way. Wynne and Cyrion sat together, laughing at the young people as they enjoyed themselves.

The high point of the evening, however, came when Alistair was telling Cyrion about the time Eriana took out an ogre single-handedly during the Battle of Ostagar. Soris, who was about half way through the drinking contest with Ogren, spoke up, "Took out an ogre by herself? I don't believe it. She's an archer, not a swordsman…swordswoman."

"No, she did it, I swear. She scaled up the dang thing's back and plunged her sword into its neck. A good thing too because that thing was about to crush me."

Eriana smiled, "Well, I couldn't let it kill my only friend in the Wardens, now could I? It would have been quite a failure if one of us didn't make it back from that Maker-forsaken tower."

"Bah," Soris said, "I always beat her when we sparred. In fact, I bet I could still beat her."

Zevran glanced over at her, his eyebrow raised. "Are you going to take that from him, mia cara?"

"No, but I refuse to spar you, Soris. You're half drunk, and I wouldn't want you to use that as an excuse when I kick your ass."

Soris snorted, "Sounds like you're afraid, cousin."

Eriana rolled her eyes and laughed, "Not hardly. Think about it Soris; I know you're still sober enough to do that. You've been in prison for a year while I've been out fighting all nature of unholy beasts. I think my skills have improved since then."

"Prove it, then. I've still got our sparring daggers."

Eriana glanced over at Zevran, who shrugged his shoulders. "I have a better idea," she said, motioning for Zevran to get up. "I think a demonstration is in order. It might relax Ada a bit and would definitely shut you up."

There was a mixture of moans and nods of approval from the group. "Well, now you've done it, elfling," Ogren said as he got up to move the table out of the way. "It's not bad enough that I've had to watch their training as we marched all over Fereldan, but now it's gone and interrupted my drinking."

Zevran joined Eriana in the middle of the room, carefully testing the weight of the wooden daggers. They were much lighter than the weapons they were used to using, but he was good at improvising. "So, are you ready for me to embarrass you in front of your family."

"Not a chance, Antivan. You are mine," she joked as she began to circle around him. They both assumed a defensive stance and grinned at each other. Zevran blew her a quick kiss before he launched himself across the room, daggers moving toward her. Deftly, she danced out of the way, bringing her daggers behind her to block his blow before spinning toward him, trying to land a hit as he moved past her. Zevran could almost hear the jaws of her family as they hit the floor as the two elves circled each other. Eriana was grinning at him as they moved, almost dancing. They had done this so many times before that it was almost second nature, each one waiting for the other to make a small mistake. It was Eriana whose misstep ended the duel, and the moment Zevran saw it and took advantage of it, pinning Eriana to the ground in a second. After giving her a quick peck on the forehead, Zevran pulled her to her feet.

"Um, yeah, so, you probably would have beaten me," Soris said.

"Well, a year of fighting darkspawn will do that for you. We are, after all ridiculously awesome by now," Eriana said with a smile. "And you forgot that I'm seeing an assassin; don't you think he taught me a thing or two?"

"Eriana," Alistair piped up, "None of us want to know what Zevran has taught you, believe me." Everyone began laughing as Zevran pulled her into a hug.

Most of the evening passed the same way, with laughter, stories, and love, and Zevran was sad to see it end. It seemed that, for that evening at least, everyone in that small house was a part of the Tabris family, and Zevran understood a bit more clearly what it was to love someone in a deeper, more meaningful way. As they were leaving, each of the Tabris elves said goodbye to him in a different way. Soris, through his drunken slurring, told Zevran to take care of Eriana then threatened to kill him if he ever hurt her. "I don't care if you are an assassin; you hurt her and I'll get you." Then he slapped him on the back and promptly passed out on the couch. Shianni kissed him lightly on the cheek and thanked him for taking care of her cousin. "I've never seen her happier, Zevran. Thank the Maker you've been there for her." Cyrion's goodbye was the most poignant. He pulled him close and embraced him as if Zevran was his own son. "Take care of her for me, young man. I don't think I could bear to lose her again. I hope you realize what a rare and wonderful thing my daughter is, and you cherish her as such."

Zevran glanced over at Eriana, who was standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes. "I swear to you, Mr. Tabris, if by my life or my death, I can protect your daughter; I will. This I have sworn to her, and I will swear it to you as well."

"Then go with the Maker, son," Cyrion said as he embraced both Zevran and Eriana, "and I hope to see you again, both of you, very soon."

The group made it back to Eamon's estate just before nightfall, everyone feeling relaxed and calm about the next day's Landsmeet. Well, they were until they walked in the front door to find Eamon waiting for them, a sour look on his face. Zevran leaned over to Eriana, "Uh-oh, it looks like someone's in trouble," he whispered into her ear.

"Alistair, Warden, there have been some… well, some possible developments that we need to discuss."

Eriana sighed. "Don't worry, my Warden; I'll have a nice, warm bath waiting for you once you are finished," Zevran said as he gave her a kiss on the temple. She nodded and disappeared with the two humans. Sighing a bit to himself, Zevran made his way up to her room, ordering up a bath on the way. Whatever spell her family cast on them, Eamon's dour face and ominous presence effectively broke it.

She was quiet once she entered, quickly shedding the lightweight leathers she had been wearing and slipping into the bath. Zevran joined her, sliding in behind her and washing her hair as she stared at the wall in front of them.

"Hum," Zevran finally broke the silence, "Since you obviously are not going to tell me what is on your mind, I guess I will just have to guess. Eamon has decided that Alistair is not in fact fit to rule, and has decided, instead, that you and I should take the throne. An interesting idea, I assure you. Fereldan would do well with a pair of elven monarchs." Eriana laughed weakly and shook her head. "No? Perhaps he has just found out that Anora is actually another bastard child of the late king, making any union between the two impossible and quite naughty." Eriana laughed again leaning back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

"No, Eamon just informed us that even if we win the support of the Landsmeet, Loghain may not willingly accept the outcome. Apparently, Loghain has been discussing an old practice of dueling as a way of settling differences. It looks like he plans to challenge us, and the outcome of that will overrule the vote of the nobles. According to tradition, I will be allowed to choose a champion if I desire, or Alistair or I could simply do it." She sighed, leaning her head against his chest.

"Would you like for me to do this? I could easily take Loghain, you know."

Eriana laughed, "Now, wouldn't that be pure irony. He hires you to kill me, and you end up fighting as my champion against him. That sounds like something out of one of Leliana's silly novels." She drew up her knees and leaned against them, "No, I think most people would see that as an insult, asking a foreigner to fight as the champion for the future King of Fereldan. I'm afraid it would set a bad precedent that Alistair needs foreign help to hold his power."

"So that negates me, Sten, and Leiana."

"I also think asking one of the mages to do it would be insulting to the Chantry, considering the whole _magic is used to serve man never to rule over him_ thing. I think they'd see using a mage as some sort of political statement, especially if we use the apostate."

"That leaves you, Alistair, and Ogren."

"No, that leaves me. There is no way I'm letting Alistair do this, and Ogren isn't much of a duelist; he's more of a charge in blindly swinging at stuff till its dead. He's supposed to be alive at the end of the duel…so we can behead him then."

"Are you actually considering this? Going up against a man three times your age who has half a century of fighting under his belt is crazy. Not only that, but he'll be heavily armored, and I have a feeling he won't hold back to behead you later."

"What choice do I have, Zevran? It's either me or Alistair; we're the only true Fereldans in the group. And I don't trust anyone else enough to ask them to do it for us. Alistair could probably take him, but it's too much of a risk. Plus, he's too emotionally attached to the situation; he may not be able to think clearly."

"And you're not? After all, the man did allow the slavers into the alienage who imprisoned your family and friends."

"I know, but I have better control of my emotions than Alistair. I always have."

Zevran turned her around to look her in the eyes. "Do you honestly think you can defeat him?"

Eriana shrugged, "I beat Sten, didn't I? And that was months ago; I've gotten much better since then."

Zevran pulled her close to his chest. "And if I say no?"

Eriana's head shot up, "If you say no? And on what premise would you have a say in this?"

"Um, on the premise that you are my fiancé, and I have a definite vested interest in your long-term survival."

Eriana raised an eyebrow, "Your fiancé?"

Zevran thumbed the diamond in her ear, "Did you already forget what this means? You did realize what I was asking you this afternoon, right?"

"Yeah, it's just…you didn't quiet put it that way. Hearing you say it; well, it's just surreal, kinda." She grinned, "But I like it. I guess I just assumed…well, I'm not sure what I assumed. I figured we'd put a title on whatever this is later." She sighed, "Regardless, though, I'm still your boss, and in this matter, what I say goes. If it comes down to it, I'll be the one to face Loghain tomorrow."

"Well, if you insist on this course of action, then you need to get some sleep," Zevran said, drawing her out of the tub and into one of the big towels that was warming by the fire. He looked down at her as he dried her off. "Just promise me that you will be careful. This isn't some mindless hurlock you will be going up against. This is a battle-worn warrior, a nation-wide hero. One does not garner such praise without many decisive victories."

"I will, Zevran, especially since I have something worth coming back to," she said with a smile as she snuggled up in his arm.

Zevran managed to convince her to try to get some sleep, but after getting into bed, he found it very difficult to sleep. He kept remembering the fight between her and Sten in Haven, recalling the quickness with which she moved even then, trying to imagine the fight now that she had been properly trained. After a fitful couple of hours, he gave up trying to sleep and slipped out of the bed as she slept beside him. He didn't want to risk waking her up by leaving the room, so he made his way over to the fire place and picked up the book she had been reading. It was a history of the first four blights as recorded by the Grey Wardens. Curiously, he began thumbing through it, stopping on pages that she had dog-eared and reading the passages that she had marked. There were several passages in particular that caught his attention, passages that detailed the destruction of the archdemon.

"You read too much of that, and I may be forced to conscript you. You know that right?" Eriana said as she walked up behind him. Zevran looked up at her, his eyes full of concern. "Zev? What's wrong?"

Zevran handed her the book, "Do you mean to tell me that you've not noticed a surprising and disturbing coincidence detailing how the last four blights were ended?"

"You mean the fact that the four Wardens who managed to kill the archdemon died in the attempt? Yeah, I noticed that," she said sitting down beside him.

"Coincidence?"

She sighed, "I sure do hope so, but when have things ever been so easy? I'd like to think that battling a dragon was so difficult that the task in and of itself killed them, but my gut tells me otherwise."

Zevran pulled her down on his lap. "What does your gut tell you in this case?"

"That this is one of those fun Warden secrets that they don't tell you when they first recruit you. And most of the Warden secrets I've learned have been 'look, here's a new fun and painful way to die; enjoy.'"

"This isn't funny."

"I know, but what can I do about it. I'm a Warden; one of three in all of Fereldan. I meant to talk to Riordan about it, but Eamon caught us and it sort of slipped my mind. There's just so much going on with the Landsmeet and everything that I just forgot."

Zevran moved beside her and wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders. "Are you sure it isn't too late to escape with the Dalish?" Zevran asked as he gently caressed her back.

She smiled up at him. "I think someone may notice it if we tried to leave."

"Just promise me that you will be careful, amora," Zevran whispered, pulling her close, unable to imagine how his life would be should the worse happen, how it would feel to lose her now that he had opened up to her. He wasn't sure how he would be able to put his life back together if he ever lost her. For a moment, he second guessed the wisdom of opening himself up to the possibility of this kind of loss with when their lives were always in such danger, but that moment passed the moment he looked down at her. Whatever the future brought them, she was worth it, and he hoped that he had a lot of time to appreciate it.

* * *

_Okay, sorry for the delay. I've been coaching as well as teaching the past two months, and the season ends Saturday (whoo-hoo). I'm not sure if I'll be able to upload this next week, so bear with me! I think we'll have about 3 or 4 more updates before I draw this story to a close. This has been so much fun to write, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading too. Reviews are always welcomed. _


	34. Eriana 34

Eriana stood in front of the armor rack in her room, staring blankly at the two sets of armor hanging in front of her. It was the morning of the Landsmeet, the day they had been working and preparing for for months, and Eriana should have been calm and confident. But instead, she found herself wracked with uncertainty, an uncertainty that manifested itself as she tried to decide between her old familiar drakescale armor and her new dragonbone armor. Deep down, she realized that, in the grand scheme of things, this decision was an insignificant one and that her indecision concerning her wardrobe was just her nerves messing with her, but that didn't comfort the petite elf as she tried to picture how the events of the Landsmeet would play out.

Initial appearances were important, and their very presence must communicate a number of things at once. Eriana had pictured their entrance into the Landsmeet chambers a thousand times. She and Alistair would walk in side by side; Alistair dressed in Cailan's iconic golden armor, wearing Duncan's shield on his back and Maric's sword at his side. She had already seen him in this look when she made him try it on the day before, and boy, was it an impressive sight. Where Cailan had looked pretentious and phony in the bulky, overly shiny armor, Alistair looked every inch the warrior king, strong and forceful. In fact, even Anora gasped when he walked in the door, dressed in the armor, regality and nobility pouring off him in waves. Anora glanced over at Eriana and said, with a grin, "Maybe this arrangement won't be so bad after all." Eriana stifled a giggle as she looked over Alistair, and even she had to admit, he looked good. The golden armor set off his amber colored eyes and sun-kissed complexion perfectly, making him look unbelievably handsome. There was no doubt; Alistair looked like a king in that armor.

Eriana would be beside Alistair, a reminder of the importance of the Wardens to the protection of the country, and Ramoth would be beside her, bathed (much to his chagrin) with a freshly painted kaddis. She hoped the mabari's presence would help tie her to Ferelden heritage and Ferelden strength in the eyes of the nobles since mabari were such an essential part of the nation's culture.

The three of them would be flanked by Ogren, who would be dressed in his Legion of the Dead armor, Wynne who would be dressed in her senior enchanter robes, and Zevran who would be donning Dalish leather armor and carrying her ironbark bow. This was another important image to Eriana, each of her companions representing one of the alliances that they had secured over the past year. It would remind the nobility of their dedication to stopping the Blight and of their ability to secure allies across the Nation. Only Leliana, Sten, Shale, and Morrigan would have to stay behind. Eriana was afraid the nobility would react negatively if Leliana arrived in support of the Wardens after she had spent the last month discreetly campaigning for them in the tavern. She was also afraid that the Chantry would take issue with the presence of an apostate mage in their group. And as for Sten and Shale, well, they just too intimidating, and their presence may be interpreted as an attempt to bully the nobility.

It was perfect; every detail was well-planned and set. Every detail except for one, and for some reason, Eriana couldn't come to a decision on her own wardrobe for the meeting. True, her new armor provided more protection and was more imposing, but it was bulkier than her older armor. She should probably wear the armor she was most comfortable in, but if she was going to fight Loghain, the extra protection may prove necessary. If the Landsmeet came down to a duel, she absolutely had to beat him. If she didn't….she didn't even want to consider the consequences.

"You know, as alluring as you are in a tunic and your smalls, I'm not sure how the nobility would react to your arriving to the Landsmeet wearing only that," Zevran said as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Why are you not changed yet, amora?" Eriana sighed and explained her dilemma to Zevran. "Hum, and is there a reason why you wouldn't wear the drakescale armor? I believe Wade said that your new armor would give you special protection from fire damage, and, as far as I know, Loghain has not yet developed the ability to breathe fire, yes?"

Eriana laughed and leaned back against his chest. "You're right, Zev. It's just…I just want to be sure, to make sure every angle is covered because if I fail…" Eriana took a deep breath. "If I fail, then Loghain will kill me; then he will execute Alistair and probably Riodran." Her breaths started to come more quickly and shallowly. "And if we're gone, there's no hope for Ferelden; the darkspawn will destroy everything and everyone." Suddenly she turned to look at Zevran, her eyes wide with fear. "Zevran, please, promise me. If I fail, promise me that you will leave. Take my family and leave. Go to Orlais or the Waking Sea, anywhere where there are other Wardens. Tell them we failed, that they will have to defeat the horde after it has decimated Ferelden." Her breath was coming in desperate gasps now. "Oh, Maker, all those people…so much is riding on this. What was I thinking? I'm just an elf; why would they listen to me? So many people will die, and it will all be my fault."

Zevran pulled her close to his chest. "Breathe, Ana, breathe," he whispered to her, taking long slow breaths. "Just match my breathing, amora, and breathe when I breathe." As she struggled to catch her breath, Zevran gently brushed the hair back off her face with one hand, the other firmly resting on her chest, urging her slow down. She felt his head on her shoulder as he murmured calming words in her ear. Slowly, but surely, her breathing slowed. "Good, mia cara, good. You have fought with men like Loghain, and have trained with men who fight as he does. Now, I want you to close your eyes and picture Loghain. He is standing in the Landsmeet chamber, and you are directly in front of him. Do you see it?" She nodded. "Good, what are you wearing?"

"The drakescale."

"And in your hands?"

"Fang and Duncan's sword."

"Now Loghain is standing before you, shield raised and sword out. What happens next?"

Eriana took a deep breath, "He brandishes his sword and bellows some war cry before charging at me. I pretend to be intimidated and allow him to get close. He'll be charging full speed toward me, wanting to end it quickly. He raises his sword above his head, and that's when I move. I feint behind him, bringing by dagger up to the weak points in his armor beneath his arm. I just need to graze the skin there, giving the poison a chance to work. His momentum will carry him past me a bit, giving me a chance to move around behind him. He'll turn the, probably leading with his shield, so I'll need to roll back, out of his way and block the sword that will follow the shield. Then I methodically wear him down, drawing him close, but staying just out of his reach. I can't let him get a solid hit on me, but I need to keep him moving, wear him down, but preserve my strength. Once he begins to falter to slow, I pick up the pace. He'll be too tired and slow to match my movements, and the poison should be through his body by this point, dulling his senses. Finally, our swords lock, and I am able to knock his away, using the momentum to carry him to the ground."

Eriana opened her eyes and turned toward Zevran who was smiling wickedly. "Um, my deadly vixen, you have no idea how sexy you are when you are like this. It is such a shame we have somewhere to be because if we didn't I would ravish you right here and now." Eriana started to respond, but Zevran up a finger to her lip, silencing her for a moment. She grinned at him before taking her finger into her mouth and pulling on it for a moment before slowly drawing it out. Giving him a coy smile, she placed a light kiss on the tip of his finger.

"Are you quite sure we don't have time? I could use the stress relief."

Zevran groaned "Alas, I am afraid so. I suppose we will just have something to look forward to this evening, no? Now, as much as I am loath to put more clothing on you, I believe we need to get you into the armor before Alistair comes looking for us."

Eriana smiled up at him. "Do you really think I can do this?"

Zevran took her gently into his arms, "There is no way I would let you out of this room if I believed any differently. Now, let us go before the fate of the nation is decided without us, no?"

* * *

The Landsmeet went off exactly as Eriana had imagined. The nobility responded perfectly to Alistair and her as they entered the chambers, several of them marveling about the uncanny resemblance between Alistair and the late King Maric. Loghain's arguments seemed solid at first but were proven weak when compared to the damning evidence that Eriana presented. When it came time to vote, the Wardens won in a landslide with only one or two of the nobles throwing their lot in with the Regent. As Eamon predicted, Loghain did not accept defeat gracefully, but demanded that they settle the matter through a duel. Eriana could practically hear Alistair's thoughts, begging her to allow him to take on Loghain himself, but this was her duty, her responsibility.

That was how she found herself deciding the fate of Loghain Mac Tir, Hero of River Dane, Teyrn of Gwaren, Regent of Ferelden.

Taking a deep breath, Eriana looked down at defeated human. "Loghain Mac Tir, your actions at Ostagar directly led to the death of King Cailan and the decimation of the King's army and the destruction of the Ferelden Grey Wardens. Without these forces, Lothering and much of southern Ferelden fell to the darkspawn and succumbed to the Taint. You then sought the deaths of the only two people in the nation who could bring an end to the Blight. You condoned the torture of political opponents and attempted to murder Arl Eamon. You allowed your citizens to be sold into slavery to support your political ambition. These are grievous offences; the punishment for such is death." Loghain bowed his head as Eriana stepped forward, her sword drawn. To the side, Anora began to cry, pleading for her father's life. The sound of the Queen's distress cut through Eriana, drawing her mind back to the warehouse where she had fought the Tevinter mage, already believing her father lost. Quickly she pushed the thought from her mind, focusing on the unpleasant task at hand.

"Wait," Riordan said, stepping forward through the crowd, "there is another option. The tyren is a warrior and a general of great renown. Let him be of use; let him go through the joining."

Eriana glanced up at the senior Warden, confused. "What? You want me to make him a Warden? Why?"

"There are three of us in Ferelden, and we are facing a Blight, as you well know. And there are…compelling reasons to have as many Wardens on hand as possible when dealing with the archdemon."

Compelling reasons…and there it was. The tone of Riordan's voice told her everything she needed to know. Three Wardens in all of Ferelden. Two of them were expendable, one was not. Anora and Alistair were both talking to her, but Eriana heard none of it. In her mind, she kept repeating, two expendable…two expendable. She glanced over to where Zevran was standing, wearing an expression that seemed to scream, "Do it, please, do it."

She sighed, "Okay Riordan."

Beside her, Alistair exploded. "Are you serious! I can't believe you are even seriously considering this. Joining the Wardens is an honor, not a punishment. Name him a Warden and you cheapen us all."

"Alistair, please, think about things for just a moment. Our duty is to stop the Blight, whatever the cost."

"No, I will not stand beside this man as a brother. I won't," Alistair shouted at him.

Eriana grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side. "Don't be a fool, Alistair," she hissed. "The only senior Warden in the country has asked us to put him through the Joining, and he said that there were compelling reasons. If that doesn't sound like an ugly Grey Warden secret, then I don't know what is. As much as I hate it, we may need him."

Alistair glared down at her. "He...is...a...traitor," he said, punctuating each word. "We need him like we need a knife in the back."

"Please, Alistair."

"No, you do this, and we're through. I will not fight alongside that traitor. Make your choice _sister_; it's either him or me."

Eamon cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Warden, we need a decision."

Eriana gave Alistair a final, pleading look before turning toward the assembled lords of Ferelden and announcing her final decision. Alistair and Anora would rule as King and Queen, Loghain would undergo the Joining.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Eriana opened the door and walked into the room where her companions were waiting for her. She and Riordan had left the Landsmeet with Loghain so that they could perform the Joining in private while Alistair and Anora met with the nobility. Now that it was over, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a long time, but she knew she needed to talk to Alistair first. He would be angry with her, but she hoped that he would listen and try to understand.

As soon as she opened the door, Anora rose and rushed to her side, her face pale and drawn with worry. "He lives. He is resting now, but you may go see him."

Anora let out a deep breath and gave Eriana a relieved smile. "Warden, thank you so…."

Eriana cut her off, "Don't thank me, Your Majesty. I did not do this for you, or for him for that matter. I did it because it was what's best for Ferelden, despite my personal feelings for your father."

Anora nodded, "All the same, I am grateful to you for giving him this chance." Eriana nodded and glanced around the room. "He isn't here, but he would like to speak to you before we leave to meet the army at Redcliffe. He is waiting for you in Eamon's study. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will go to my father."

Eriana watched as the Queen left before glancing back at her companions, whose faces were a combination of anger, confusion, and disinterest. Only Zevran's face showed any compassion. How she wished he would take her into his arms and help her forget everything that had happened, but they both knew that Alistair needed to be dealt with first. Sighing to herself, Eriana turned to head for the Arl's study.

Alistair was waiting for her with his back to the door, staring ahead into the fire. She noticed that he seemed to tense up when she entered, but he didn't turn to look at her. "Alistair?"

"Ah, so the great hero has finally decided to grace me with her presence," sneered Alistair, every word dripping with bitterness and hatred. "Come to congratulate me on being elected King, or perhaps it was on my engagement to a woman who will remind me of her father every time I look at her."

"Alistair, please."

"How could you?" he growled, finally turning to look at her, his handsome face contorted with rage. "After all we've been through, how could you choose him over me? I thought we had something. I thought we were friends."

"Alistair we are; if you…"

"No!" he shouted, quickly closing the distance between them. Eriana backed away from him until her back was against the wall. She had never seen him this angry before. "You are no friend of mine, elf." Eriana flinched as he glared down at her. "Friends don't stab friends in the back. You are not my friend. You're just a treacherous, knife-eared bitch who used me."

Biting back tears, Eriana glanced up at him, "Alistair, try to understand; for a moment, please think about this clearly…"

"I am thinking clearly; perhaps for the first time in my life, I see things clearly. You used me. You played with my emotions to keep me around because you needed me, and now that you don't need me anymore, you turn on me. I can't believe I ever had feelings for you, but now I see you for the selfish bitch you truly are."

Eriana stared up at him, unable to respond to his harsh words.

"Just tell me this, elf. Did I really mean so little to you that you were able to throw away our friendship for a man who was trying to kill us? Did you ever really even care for me at all?"

"Alistair, of course I cared for you. I still do. I did this with the hopes that we would both live through this, that one day we might be able to work past this."

Alistair laughed bitterly, "I will NEVER get over this, and I will never forgive you. Don't even try to pretend you had any thought for me when you did this because if you had thought about me even a little bit, you would have killed Loghain the moment he surrendered. But instead you made him one of us. The man who killed Duncan is one of us."

"Yes, he is. He is a Grey Warden, not a Pure White Warden, not a Black City Warden, a Grey Warden. Sparing him may wrong Duncan and those who fell at Ostagar, but if it is the right thing to do for Fereldan and Thedas as a whole, then it is the right thing for us to do. We are charged with stopping the Blight, not with satisfying personal vendettas. If having Loghain in the Wardens means we can stop the Blight and have you alive at the end, then it's the right thing to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's nothing…just…look, before there were two of us, Riordan and I between you and the archdemon, now there are three."

"Don't pretend that you did this for me. You have never done anything for me. Everything you have done as been for you because that it was the easy thing for you. You were afraid to develop feelings for me, so you ended things to protect yourself. You didn't want to want to deal with your true feelings so you ran to that assassin. You have always thought about yourself, so don't lie to me and tell me that you did this for me."

Eriana sighed, trying hard to keep from breaking down. "I know you're angry at me, Alistair, and I don't blame you. But hear me out for just a moment."

"No. I am done listening to you, and I am done with this. I want nothing to do with you or the Grey Wardens anymore. I'm finished." With that, Alistair turned and walked away and out of her life, slamming the door behind him.

A sob escaped from her, shaking her entire body as she slid down the wall. Pulling her knees to her chest, he buried her head in her arms and let the tears flow freely. She knew deep down that she had done the right thing, that she needed as many Wardens between the archdemon and the king as possible. If she had to do it over again, she'd do the exact same thing. But that didn't change the fact that it cost her Alistair, her best friend and brother in arms. In doing what was necessary, she had hurt one of people she cared about the most in this world. Try as she might, she couldn't shake the memory of Alistair's face from her mind. Never before had he looked at her with such anger, such hate. Never before had he called her those names. He was lost to her, maybe forever. It was too much for her to take, so she stayed there, curled up in a ball, crying into her hands.

Soon, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around her as Zevran pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. He didn't say anything; he just held her and caressed her as she mourned the loss of her friend.

* * *

_Thanks to everyone for sticking around. I know it's been a while since I updated. I'm on fall break this week, so I'll probably be able to get a few chapters up (maybe even finish). Remember, the Maker smiles on those who review! Thanks!_


	35. Eriana 35

Eriana hoped that a good night's sleep would give her clarity and peace about the events of the Landsmeet. She had hoped to wake up feeling better about her decision. But when she awoke the next morning, she was overcome with a feeling of emptiness, a feeling that there was something tangible missing from her life. Alistair was gone, and she felt it now in her body as well as her soul. Over the past few months, Eriana had become accustomed to feeling the familiar pull from the taint running through Alistair's blood; it was a comforting sensation that reminded her of their bond. It was a familiar, ever present comfort for her, and now it was missing. She could feel the pull of Riordan's tainted blood, a stronger presence than Alistair's, but it was no comfort to her. Her friend, her brother in arms was gone all because of her actions, and his absence left a void in her life that no one else could fill.

Sighing to herself, she crawled out of the bed, careful not to disturb Zevran who was sleeping peacefully beside her. There was much for her to do before they left for Redcliffe in a few days, and she might as well get to work. First things first, she needed to speak with Loghain; then she needed to explain things to their companions. Slipping into a pair of leather britches and a tunic, Eriana made her way to the former teryn's door.

"Enter," Loghain barked as she knocked on his door. He was sitting before the fire, staring at the flames as they danced in the hearth. "Oh, it's you. Well, what can I do for you Commander?"

"I just wanted to check on you, that's all. The Joining's effects can be…disturbing at first, and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

Loghain looked up at her, surprised, "So you haven't come to gloat?"

Eriana smiled and moved to the seat beside him. "No, no gloating from me; I just thought we needed to talk, seeing as how we will be traveling together."

Loghain looked back into the fire, "Well, I passed your little test. Fate has a twisted sense of humor, it seems. I suppose you think I'm some kind of monster even more so since I survived your ritual. You keep striking at me, and I just refuse to die decently."

"That's true; I may have to resort to magic next," Eriana said with a weak laugh. "Loghain, I don't think you are a monster, and if I wanted you dead, you would have been dead at Landsmeet."

Loghain nodded, "Very true, so why did you keep me alive then, Commander; what plans do you have for me?"

Eriana sighed, "We needed other Wardens, and thanks to you, only had the materials to conduct one joining. You're strong enough that I honestly believed that you would survive the ritual, so we wouldn't waste the only supplies we had. That, and you are an experienced warrior who knows how to command an army. I do not. Despite all that I have done these past few months, I was never trained in military tactics; I am an ailenage elf after all. So your skills are vital to our success as we go up against this army of darkspawn." She glanced over at him, "I'm not so proud that I can't admit my own weaknesses, Loghain. There is a lot that I can learn from you. You are a Grey Warden now, and if we are going to stop this Blight, we're going to have to trust one another."

Loghain looked at her for a moment, silently contemplating what she was saying. "Impressive, I thought you would resent me for costing you Alistair."

Eriana shook her head, "You didn't cost me Alistair; that is my fault entirely. I knew exactly how he would react, yet I conscripted you anyway. I don't regret it, and would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Why?"

"Because it is what was best for Ferelden, but there will be a better time and place to discuss this later. I was honestly curious about how you were doing."

"Fine, I suppose. A bit sick to my stomach, but I am hoping that will pass soon."

Eriana grinned, "It should, only to be replaced by a gnawing hunger." Loghain looked over at her. "A side effect of the taint, one of many, I'm afraid. But we will have time to discuss those later as well." Eriana stood up, "We will be leaving for Redcliffe in a few days, so you will need to gather supplies for making camp. Let me know what you will need, and I'll have a servant or one of my companions get it for you. I'm not sure how people would react to you on your own out there; there are some people who are very upset with you in this city."

"Thank you, Commander; this is…unexpected."

"Eriana."

"Excuse me?"

"Just call me Eriana. We are an order of equals; our titles are only for those outside the order. We are brothers and sisters in the taint now, Loghain, no need for formalities."

Loghain nodded, "As you wish, Eriana."

Eriana gave him a weak smile and turned to leave. "Awkward conversation number one down, one more to go," she thought as she returned to her room. She was unsurprised to find Zevran already dressed and waiting for her.

"How did the chat with Loghain go, mia cara?"

How Zevran always seemed to know what she was doing, Eriana would never know. He seemed to have an intuitive understanding of the inner workings of her mind. "A bit awkward at first, but that was to be expected. He doesn't quite trust me yet, but I think he'll come around once he realizes that we weren't exaggerating about the severity of the Blight situation." She sighed and sat down on the edge of their bed. "I just hope the others trust me and try to understand."

Zevran sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "We have trusted you so far, and you have yet to let us down. I'm sure they will understand."

"Alistair didn't."

"We are not all as emotionally ruled as Alistair is, my dear. He has yet to learn to separate his heart from this mind, but he will learn soon enough. Come, now. You will feel better once you have spoken with everyone."

Together the two elves made their way down to the common room where their companions had assembled for breakfast. Eriana looked around at each of them. "I know you are all very confused by the choices that I made yesterday, and I know that it may seem I chose my enemy over my best friend. Let me assure you all that is not the case. Sometimes being a Grey Warden means you often have to make unpleasant decisions for the greater good, decisions that often times seem wrong or hurtful, but bear in mind, my duty is to all of Thedas and Ferelden. Loghain, as harmful as he has been to me personally, has skills that will be helpful to us. I would not be doing my duty if I allowed such an asset to go to waste, and my duty is to the Wardens as a whole, not to individuals.

"You all joined me because you wanted to help Ferelden, to stop the Blight. Some of you gave up a great deal to join me; wouldn't you sacrifice a great deal more if it meant bringing an end to all this suffering? I know I would. I wish I could explain more, but please trust me in this. Hurting Alistair was the last thing I wanted, but I hope that you all know me well enough to know that it wasn't a decision I made lightly or without good reason."

After she finished, Eriana looked around at her companions. Morrigan was the first to speak, "Well, I think that Loghain is a fine addition to the group, though replacing Alistair tis not exactly a difficult task." Eriana rolled her eyes. Morrigan had disliked Alistair from the beginning, so it was no surprise to her that she was happy to see him go.

Ogren and Sten both respected Loghain because he was an experienced warrior, and though Ogren was genuinely sad to see the templar leave, he willingly welcomed Loghain into their party. In fact, the only person who seemed to have a real problem with Eriana's decision was Wynne, but that didn't really surprise Eriana. As the group left for breakfast, Eriana took the mage by the arm and asked to speak with her in private.

"Wynne, you are well read on the Grey Wardens and our history. What do you know of the history of the Blights?"

Wynne looked down at her for a moment, an annoyed look on her face, "Well, most Blights last for many years and destroy entire nations before the archdemon is destroyed and the Blight effectively ended. It is said that the archdemon is the soul of an old god that has been corrupted by the taint. There have been four Blights, but they have all taken place north of Ferelden. The most recent Blight almost destroyed Antiva; had it not been for Garahel, it may well have."

"And what do you know of ending the Blight?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. It is said that a Grey Warden must be to one to defeat the archdemon, but none of the books that I have read indicate why." Wynne glanced down at her, "Why, is there something more that you know?"

Eriana shook her head, "Only this, every Warden who has made the killing blow died in the process." Wynne's eyes widened at that. "I don't know for certain what that means, but I have a good idea what it may mean. I just wanted to make sure there was another Warden or two between that thing and the King. Can you possibly understand?"

"Why are you telling only me this?"

"Because I know how much you care for Alistair in almost a maternal way. I just thought that you deserved to know; I hoped you would understand."

"I confess, I was very unhappy with your decision. I still think that Loghain may hurt the already frail reputation of the Wardens, but I cannot argue with your logic."

"Thank you Wynne."

The next two days passed in relative peace for the Warden. She spent most of her time getting armor and weapons repaired, restocking their supplies, and spending time with her family. There was only one more thing for her to take care of before she would be ready to leave for Redcliffe.

"You want me to leave Denerim. Why da'len?" Cyrion asked her.

"Well, it's the capital of Ferelden, and that makes it a big target. If the archdemon is as intelligent as they say, then the horde will likely attack the city eventually. I would feel better if you were somewhere more secure."

"Where would you like me to go, then?"

"There is a Warden outpost in the north known as Soldier's Peak. We have some allies there who will keep you safe. A group of Redcliffe knights will escort you, Soris, and Shianni there in the morning." Cyrion started to protest, but Eriana stopped him. "They will be going there for me anyway; I have some supplies that they are retrieving for me that are being stored there." She wrapped her arms around her father, "Ada, please do this for me."

"Anything for you my daughter. I just wish that there was something I could do to keep you safe, to shield you from all of this," Cyrion said, drawing her down on the couch beside him. The Grey Wardens were leaving for Redcilffe in the morning, so Zevran and Eriana decided to spend the day with her family to give them one last time to be together before the war drew them apart. Zevran and Soris had just left to pick up some lunch from the market, giving Eriana and her father some time alone.

"Just knowing you are safe will be enough for me, Ada," Eriana said, resting her head on the old elf's shoulder. Cyrion reached over and stroked his daughter's long blond hair as she rested against him.

"Soris should be quite willing to leave Denerim, I would believe, especially after all he's been through lately, but Shianni, well, Shianni may be another story." Eriana looked up at him, a confused look on her face. "She has all but taken over for Valendrian since he was taken by those slavers. I doubt she will be willing to leave."

"Please, just try to convince her, Dad; I would just feel so much better if I knew all of you were out of the city." Eriana closed her eyes for a moment, trying to savor every detail of what she hoped wasn't her last moment with her father. "Ada," she said, looking up at him, "Do you think I'm selfish?"

Cyrion blinked down at her, a confused look on his face, "Selfish? You? Da'len, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Eriana sighed and explained what Alistair had said to her after the Landsmeet. "And he does have a point, Ada; I mean, I did break up with him to save myself from getting hurt. Isn't that selfish? I willingly hurt him to spare my own feelings. And I guess there was some sense of self-preservation in my decision to spare Loghain, but I honestly believe that he will be an asset in our fight against the darkspawn. But there are other things, too. I picked the Bhelen because he would be the strongest ally for me, not because he was the best choice for the dwarfs. When I killed Vaghan, it was for my own revenge; wasn't that selfish? I mean, I didn't even consider what the outcome would be for others."

"Yes you did, cousin," Soris said from where he and Zevran stood in the doorway. "I heard what Vaghun said when we were in there. He offered to give you money to spare him, but he would have still raped all those women. You refused to leave them behind to be tortured. A selfish person would have taken the money an ran. Not only that, you took the blame for what happened there when it was all my doing. I rescued you; I put the sword in your hands and forced you to fight your way out of that place. Then when the guards came, you took the blame. You were willing to die to protect me. How could you even think for one moment that you are selfish?"

"Is this about what Alistair said?" Zevran asked, his face drawn with anger. Eriana nodded. "Braska! Ana, my heart, please tell me you are not taking to heart what he said to you. He was angry, and you know what he is like when he is angry. Maker's Breath, you have had a concussion that proves that."

Cyrion raised an eyebrow at that, but Eriana waved him off. "But Zev, he had a point."

"No," Zevran said, crossing the room to kneel before her. "No, he had a temper and a whiney outburst. You are one of the most selfless, kind people that I have ever met. If you were a selfish person, you would have killed me the moment we met, but you didn't. You spared my life and gave it purpose once again. And you have done that and more for every person you have met in this cold, cruel nation. A selfish person wouldn't have searched over a war-beleaguered nation for a lost sword. A selfish person would have left Redcliffe to fall and her Arl to die. A selfish person wouldn't spend her money on trinkets and gifts just to make her companions happy. You, mi amora are the kindest, most giving person I have ever known, and it pains me to see you question that because of the ratings of an angry, ill-tempered monarch."

Eriana's eyes filled up with tears as she glanced around the room at the men who loved her: her father, her cousin who was more of a brother, and her lover, her assassin, her rock. She felt her father's arms tighten around her as he whispered in her ear, "Don't doubt yourself, da'len. You are a good person, stubborn as a mabari at times, but good."

"Thank you," Eriana said, allowing the tears to flow freely as her father held her. "I guess I'm just nervous about having all this depend on me, and I don't want to make the wrong decision when it comes to something important. I've never had this kind of pressure before, so I guess I'm second guessing everything. With so much riding on me, I can't afford to make a mistake."

She sighed and leaned back into her father's arms. Was Alistair right or was her family right? If only there was some way to prove to him that she wasn't selfish. She just hoped that she could prove it to him, somehow.


	36. Loghain and Eriana 36

It had been a long time since Loghain Mac Tir had backpacked across Ferelden, not since the days of the rebellion, in fact. He soon realized that, even though he had been used to traveling with his army, he had become accustomed to a certain level of luxury. He had been used to tents that he was able to stand up cleanly in and that were set up by servants who also cooked dinner. Needless to say, the first night that the party stopped to make camp came as a bit of a rude awakening for him. True, he was prepared to sleep in a small tent on a thin bedroll, but he certainly wasn't expecting to be asked to keep watch. Not that he felt that he was above it, but even during the rebellion, he and Maric had others who kept watch for them. It simply wasn't something he was accustomed to, that much was for sure. But everyone had a role when they stopped to make camp, even the Warden herself.

It was amusing for him to watch the familiar routine the little party seemed to have first even the group stopped for the evening. He was surprised when the young apostate woman that traveled with them transformed into a wolf, and she and the mabari disappeared into the woods. The Warden and her elven lover made their way around the perimeter of the camp setting up snares and traps. The qunari and dwarf immediately began to cut wood for their fire while the Orlesian bard and the older mage began rolling out everyone's tents in what he assumed was a familiar formation around the center of the camp. They stopped for a moment when they came to the space directly between the fire and camp's entrance, sad looks crossing their faces. "Ah, so that must be Alistair's spot," Loghain thought to himself as he began to set up his own tent away from the circle.

"What are you doing way out here?" Eriana asked, walking up to him.

"Well, I simply assumed that you would prefer it if I camped away from your group." He nodded toward her companions, "They don't exactly seem happy with my presence, after all."

"That doesn't matter. We camp close together for safety's sake. We learned the hard way that if we spread out too much, we are vulnerable in the night. Even Morrigan has moved a bit closer to the rest of us. Now, set your tent up beside mine. We will be on first watch together tonight anyway."

That had surprised him. "You want to be on watch with me?"

Eriana shrugged, "There is much we need to talk about, and I thought that it would be the perfect time to discuss certain Grey Warden issues without others overhearing. Besides, no one else trusts you enough yet to take watch with you just yet, so you're stuck with Zevran and me for a while, I'm afraid."

"You and Zevran? There are three people on each watch?"

"No, but where I go, Zev goes. He's kind of stubborn about that, and he made that perfectly clear to me before we left Denerim." She gave him a slight grin. "I think he wants to make sure you don't try to kill me again," she said as she walked away from him, back to the center of the camp.

Loghain observed the Warden and her party as they sat together around the fire eating the rabbits that the witch and mabari had returned with. It was an interesting little band of misfits that the Warden had assembled, and somehow, they all managed to get along and seemed to genuinely like one another. After dinner, Eriana walked around the camp, talking with each member of her party individually before they each turned in for the night. She was fascinating, this elven woman who had united the nation against him. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she seemed sincere at the same time. Perhaps that was why people tended to gravitate toward her, to trust her; she was charismatic and alluring without conscious effort, and that made her genuine, a quality that can't be faked even by the most talented bard.

When it came time for Loghain and the two elves to keep watch, he was content to simply sit by the fire silently contemplating what he had observed. The Warden in turn was content to let him sit in silence while she and her lover talked quietly on the other side of the fire, her massive mabari sleeping by their feet.

The next day proved more of the same for Loghain. He walked quietly beside the Warden during the day and spent most of the evening by himself while the camp moved around him, but when it came time for him to keep watch with the elves, it was clear that they weren't going to let him sit in silence anymore. It was the Warden's lover who first broke the silence between him and the group.

"So," Zevran said as the elf sat down beside him, "Lord Loghain."

Loghain glanced over at the foreign elf; he looked vaguely familiar, but the former teyrn couldn't quiet place him. "As I am no longer a teyrn or even a knight, you shouldn't address me as such. Just address me as you would any other Grey Warden."

Zevran began laughing, "Oh, I don't think you would want me addressing you as I do your fellow Grey Warden; most Ferelden men are not quite that secure in their masculinity."

Loghain glanced over at him for a moment before sighing and rolling his eyes. "What is on your mind?"

"You know who I am, yes? I was one of the Crows you hired to kill the Grey Wardens."

Ah, yes, that was how he knew him. "I thought you looked familiar."

Zevran chuckled, "Well, I just wanted to report that I failed my mission, Loghain."

Loghain himself chuckled a bit at that, "You don't say."

"I'm terribly broken up over it."

"Well that's plain to see," Loghain said turning back to the fire. "So tell me, how exactly did you end up bedding the woman you were hired to kill?"

"Exactly, hum, let me see. When a man and a woman are attracted to each other, often times there are certain urges that…"

Loghain sighed, "That's not what I meant. I know how that happens." He shook his head, "Antivans. What I was curious about was how you went from trying to kill her to joining her party."

"Ah, yes, that," said Zevran with a sly smile. "I did try to kill her, but had you told me originally how lovely she was, I assure you, I would have gone about it a completely different way. Obviously, I failed in my attempt; she is quite formidable as you well know. She spared my life, and I pledged my oath of loyalty to her. The rest as they say is history."

"You are in good company, Loghain," Eriana said, as she sat down on the ground in front of Zevran. "Two of my best friends tried to kill me at one time or another."

"Hum, I am honored."

Eriana ignored his snide comment for the moment. "So how have you been getting along? I realize that this has probably been a difficult transition for you, and I wish that we could give you a bit more time to adjust."

"I am fine, thank you, Warden. Your companions have been…accommodating."

Eriana laughed, "Which means they have ignored you for the most part. They will come around. It took some of them months to start trusting Zevran, and he only tried to kill me once."

"Were as I have tried to kill you numerous times, yet you seem to trust me already. Why is that?"

"Oh, I don't completely trust you; not yet at least. But you are a Warden now, and I know the change that you undergo when that happens. You see that I have not been lying, that Duncan was not lying when he talked of a Blight and an archdemon. You've seen it; you know it's true."

Loghain looked over at her, "That is true. I realize that I was a bit hasty to dismiss Duncan's claims at Ostagar, but he had no proof other than what he himself had seen." The trio was quiet for a moment. "I still fail to understand your motivation behind making me a Warden. You say you knew how Alistair would react, so it seems to me that you knowingly traded one Grey Warden for another."

Eriana sighed and looked up at Zevran for a moment. "In a way, that's true, but Alistair, as you know, was not just a Grey Warden. He is the last of the Theirin line; it is imperative that he survive this. The reason I supported Alistair in the Landsmeet isn't because I thought he'd be a better ruler than your daughter, far from it actually. I believe Anora will be a fine Queen, but I know how important blood is for the nobility. They needed that Theirin blood, and the will support Theirin blood. You of all people should know this. Keeping Alistair alive to the end of the Blight will secure Ferelden and keep her from plunging herself into civil war once this is all over.

"The three of us that remain are expendable. I'm just an elf who was conscripted into this order; Ferelden can stand to lose me. I'm sorry to say, but most of the nobility would see you as a threat to the throne if you remain alive, so you're expendable too. And as for Riordan, well, he's close to his Calling, so he wouldn't be a big loss either. Three expendable Wardens makes me feel a lot better than two."

"That makes all makes sense," Loghain said. "I have to say, Warden…"

"Eriana"

"Right, Eriana. I have to say, you surprise me. This is a very forward way of thinking. You show a great deal of wisdom for someone of your…" Loghain paused for a moment.

"Of my class, my race? I know that I'm just a poor elf, but I'm not completely uneducated."

"No, I wasn't thinking of your race; in fact, I have great respect for elves. I was actually thinking about your age, but it occurred to me, I have no idea how old you are. It can be difficult to tell with elves sometimes; your race ages so gracefully."

Eriana smiled up at him, "Oh, well, I'm eighteen." Loghain felt his jaw drop. She laughed, "Remember, Loghain, if I was still living in the alienage, I would probably be married and starting a family. We are forced to mature quite quickly in the alienages; life is not easy for us."

"Well, once again, you surprise me; I assumed you were young, but I had no idea. How old where you when Duncan recruited you, anyway?"

"I was seventeen, almost eighteen. But in Duncan's defense, he did it to save my life." Loghain listened as Eriana explained what happened on her wedding day. "To be fair, he probably didn't plan for me to have any kind of responsibility so soon. After all, the only responsibility he ever gave me was climbing a tower and lighting a fire. Everything else I have done had been from necessity."

"So that was you; you were the one who killed Vaughn?" Eriana nodded. "It seems we humans have a bad habit of underestimating you."

Eriana shrugged, "Most humans underestimate elves. Even you." Loghain started to protest, but she stopped him. "Yes, I know all about your history with the Night Elves during the rebellion; you are probably more open than most when it comes to our recognizing our abilities and our value. But what happened after that? Nothing! Nothing changed for the elves in Ferelden. You were the advisor to the King; you saw how helpful elves can be, yet you still allowed us to be treated like second-class citizens in your own back yard. Nothing changed for us after the rebellion. You may see our talents and abilities, but when you look at us, you still see elves."

Loghain sighed and nodded. "Once again, Warden, you show wisdom far beyond your years."

* * *

The next week proved to be quite interesting for Loghain. A few of Eriana's companions began to actually talk to him on occasion, especially the qunari and the dwarf. The women of the camp were still undeniably cool toward him; in fact, the older mage had on several occasions gone out of her way to chide and insult him.

"Oh, don't take it personally, Warden Loghain," Zevran told him as they were keeping watch one night. "Wynne takes it upon herself to critique everyone. If you want her to stop, just start talking about her magical bosom and she clams right up," he said with a laugh.

Loghain shook his head, "I will bear that in mind." Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Loghain actually found himself enjoying the time he spent with the two elves on watch each night. There was a nonchalant air about the two of them that put him at ease. Deep down, he suspected it was an act, a clever rouse to encourage him to open up so they could see his true nature; they were both, after all, trained rogues and assassins, but he found that he didn't care. He had in the past week developed a good deal of respect for the elven Warden. She was open, forward, and honest with him, something that he had not experienced since Maric died. She was not afraid to ask him the hard questions about Ostagar and his actions since then, but at the same time, she did not seem overly judgmental with him. In fact, in a number of cases, she seemed to empathize with him, especially when it came to Cailan.

"You were in a difficult place when it came to King Cailan, Loghain, I'll give you that. Not to speak ill of the dead, but the boy was a fool. I met him only twice, and that much was plain to me. I'm not saying he deserved to die the way he did, no one deserves to die that way, but in the long run, his death may prove better for Ferelden than even you realize," Eriana told him one evening while the three kept watch.

Loghain was confused, "What do you mean by that?"

Eriana got up and disappeared briefly into her tent and returned a moment later with a handful of papers. "I found these in Ostagar when we went to retrieve the King's armor."

Loghain looked though the papers, horrified by what he found. That fool of a king was planning to leave his daughter to marry the Orlesian Empress. In one swift move, Orlais would have gained everything that years of war were unable to secure, and Eamon seemed to support this move. "Are these legitimate?"

Eriana nodded, "So far as we can tell. I removed them from the King's cache myself."

Loghain turned the papers over again, scanning through them a second and third time. "Who knows of this?"

"Only Zevran and I." Loghain glanced up at her, surprised that she would allow such sensitive information into the hands of a foreigner. "He was with me the first time I looked over them," she explained, "and as I don't speak Orlesian, he had to translate the two letters from the Empress Celene. I was considering using them against Anora before she suggested and alliance."

"So she does not know of these?" Eriana nodded. "Good, then it needs to stay that way. There needs to be no question surrounding her or Alistair in these difficult times. I think you for this, Eriana; most people would have made these letters public the moment they found them."

"Well, it was my intent to eventually make them public, but once we came to an agreement, your daughter and I, I found it advantageous to keep them secret. The letter from Eamon would have been especially damning to her and would certainly go against our ultimate goals."

Loghain thanked the elves again and turned his attention back to the letters, fuming over the impertinence of his late son-in-law.

"Amora, you look exhausted," Loghain heard Zevran whisper to Eriana as he rubbed her shoulders. "Why don't you go ahead and turn in, and Loghain and I will finish, yes? I will join you shortly, mia cara. Leave your weapons with me so I can get them polished for you." Eriana glanced at him before he rolled his eyes and handed her his own weapons. She smiled, kissed the assassin, and bade them both good night.

"She doesn't sleep unarmed?" Loghain asked as he watched as Zevran began meticulously tending to the weapons before him.

"Do you?" Zevran said with a laugh, "I know I certainly don't. There are at least three people in this camp who have tried to kill her, you know."

"Point taken." Loghain folded up Cailan's letters and put them in his pack. "Zevran, I have a question, if I may? A Crow question." The assassin looked up at him, intrigued. "Once a contract is taken out, is there any way to revoke it? Not that I would expect a refund of any sort, but is it possible to cancel a contract once it is out there?"

Zevran shook his head, "No, once the Crows take out a contract, it remains active until the target is eliminated. Now, it may prove unprofitable to continue to pursue a target that proves too difficult, even for us, but it would take some time for our Warden's status to reach that. As it stands, there will always be a contract out on Eriana."

"Even if I change my mind, there is nothing I can do about it?"

Zevran shook his head again. "All you can do is hope that she is a successful in the next attempt as she was in the first two. That, and help her to put down the assassination attempts yourself. It is quite fun, I assure you, to be on the other side of those assassination attempts when you have been privy to them yourself."

"Imagine the irony of it. I could very well be killed fighting off assassins that I myself hired."

"Ah yes, fate is a tricky whore, isn't she." Zevran said with a laugh. "I should have warned you when you first joined us that this was an inevitable end. You can only be around our fair Warden so long before you feel the need to protect her." Loghain gave slight grunt in response. "Deny it all you like, but you know it is true. You wouldn't be asking how to revoke her contract if you didn't feel this way. She is a remarkable woman, our Warden, even if all don't clearly see her value, those of us closest to her certainly do."

Loghain looked over at the elf for a moment before he nodded in agreement. He wasn't sure when or how it happened, but he had definitely grown to respect and appreciate his fellow Warden, and he found himself suddenly very concerned for her safety.

* * *

The party made good time to Redcliffe, but as they grew closer to the village, Eriana was met with a growing unease. So she wasn't surprised to find the town and Keep full of darkspawn, but this was not the horde. It was a clever rouse, a distraction from the real threat. The archdemon had shown itself and was leading the horde directly for Denerim. The Wardens and their army would be leaving in the morning to face the Blight head on. As they were preparing to turn in for the night, Riordan had called Eriana and Loghain into his room for a private conversation. There he had confirmed Eriana's suspicions; a Grey Warden's life was required to end the Blight. Deep down, she had known the truth of this for a while, but there was a difference between knowing it and really knowing it for certain. Her heart in her stomach, Eriana bade the other Wardens good night and returned to her room only to be propositioned by Morrigan. Another suspicion was confirmed; Morrigan had ulterior motives all along. She wanted the soul of the archdemon; she promised salvation for the Wardens. Eriana refused.

"Morrigan, be serious. How could you possibly know if this would even work? Even if it does save us, preserving the soul of the archdemon is insane. What if it triggers another Blight?"

"Flemeth assured me that it would not."

"Yeah, well Flemeth was also planning on killing you and stealing your body, so she not exactly the most trustworthy source here, now is she. That's why you were sent with us, isn't it? You've been playing me the whole time." Morrigan was silent for a moment, telling Eriana all she needed to know. "I'm sorry Morrigan, but I will not agree to this. There is just too much that can go wrong, and I will not risk another Blight."

"Have it your way then, fool. I myself will not sit idly by and watch your demise. I thought you would have more wisdom than honor, but I see you are as big a fool as our templar King. Good bye."

Eriana didn't turn to watch her leave; she just leaned forward, resting her head against the stone hearth of the fireplace, fighting back the tears threatening to spring from her eyes.

"Why, amora, why?" Eriana hadn't heard him come in; she doubted he did. He had probably been with her the entire time, hiding in the shadows. "She promised you safety; why did you just let her go?"

"She promised me nothing, Zevran. There's no guarantee that I will even make it to the archdemon; the horde may very well kill us all before there's even a chance at defeating that thing. What she offered was a selfish gambit; there's no assurance in that."

"You heard what Riordan said. The Warden who kills the archdemon dies," he said as he turned her so that she had to look at him. There were tears forming in his eyes, a look of fear and desperation on his face. "Please, Ana, please don't do this to me. Go after her; say you changed your mind, but don't do this to me."

Eriana's hands somehow found the side of his face, and she hoped he couldn't feel just how much they were trembling. "Zevran, I can't. If this was about you or me, my love, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can't risk it. Zev, think about the consequences. Even if the child isn't tainted; releasing that kind of power into the world is dangerous. How could we trust Morrigan with that kind of power?"

Zevran shook his head and pulled her close. "I don't care. I cannot lose you, not now that I've…" He closed his eyes, blinking back the tears that were beginning to flow freely. "I have never allowed myself to feel this way before for anyone, you know this. Opening up to you has been more difficult that you could ever realize; it's made me dig up emotions and feelings long ago buried. How can I survive now in this world if you are not a part of it? I never knew I could feel like this, but now…you are my oxygen, the very essence of my life. To think that I may lose that, I don't think I can bear it."

Eriana threw her arms around him and buried her head in his neck. Together the two elves held each other, neither able to form the words to express the fear, the pain they were feeling. Finally Eriana pulled back to look at her lover. "Zevran, if I accept this, I may be cursing a new generation to the horrors that we have faced. As much as I love you and as much as I want to be with you, I can't bring myself to do it. I can't ask others to suffer for my happiness; I can't be that selfish."

"Then make Loghain do it; make him take the last hit."

Eriana smiled sadly, "How can I ask that of him? I didn't make him a Warden so he could do the unpleasant things for me. I cannot ask him to do something simply because I am unwilling. This is my responsibility; if Riordan fails, I'm the most senior Warden so it falls to me to do it. This life isn't a punishment." She sighed and traced the tattoos across his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "Zev, I know this sounds crazy, but despite the constant threat of death and dismemberment, these last few months have been the happiest of my whole life, and it's all thanks to you. You have given me more than you could ever know. These last ten months have been borrowed time for me; had Duncan not been there, I would have been dead long ago. This time was a gift, and I am grateful for it."

She reached up around her neck and pulled off the necklace that she had been wearing for months. Gently, she placed the coin in Zevran's hand. "Remember when you gave this coin to me? You told me that there were two sides to life, joy and pain. You said that if something wasn't worth losing, then you would never feel that pain of that loss; there no way of having one without the other. Should the worst happen…" Eriana stopped for a moment, looking into his glistening amber colored eyes. "Should the worst happen, please remember that there is another side to the hurt, and focus on that."

Zevran's arms tightened around her as he crushed her to his chest. "Loving you has been worth the risk of losing you, amora. I just can't bear the thought of life without you."

"Then don't think about it tonight, Zevran. Just…just be with me," she whispered as she drew his head up to hers, finding his lips with her hungry kiss. For once, he was slow to respond, but soon she was overpowered by the force of his kisses. There was a desperate passion, a hungry desire that she had never felt before. Without saying a word, the elves moved to the bed, clinging to each other, afraid to let go. His hands searched her body as if it was their first time together, as if he was trying to commit every curve of her figure body to memory, but his eyes never once left her face. Eriana in turn clung to him as if he would disappear the moment she let go, afraid that this moment would be their last together. She savored the feel of his body on top of her, the scent of his leather armor as it surrounded her, and the feel of their lovemaking as they moved together. It was both desperate and tender, passionate yet affectionate, and when they were done, they collapsed in exhaustion beside each other and looked at each other for a long time, both afraid of what tomorrow would bring. It was a long time before they finally succumbed to sleep, still clinging to one another in the darkness.

In his room, Loghain was finding sleep equally fleeting. He had been standing outside of Eriana's room while Morrigan made her proposition and had been about to knock when Zevran made his presence known. He listened as the two lovers talked, his heart breaking along with theirs. He was surprised by the Warden's resolve that she should be the one to take the final blow; it was his suspicion that the only reason he was conscripted was so that he would be the one to make the sacrifice. But as he listened to the two elves, he came to realize, much to his surprise, that she fully intended to take the final blow herself. Loghain shook his head and returned to his room, allowing the couple a final moment of privacy, but he found it difficult to sleep. In his mind's eye, he saw himself standing beside a funeral pyre, surrounded by the Warden's companions, watching as the fire consumed the beautiful elven Warden.

_

* * *

_

Okay, so we're coming to the final leg of the story, and I wanted to thank those of you who have been so supportive from the beginning. This was the first thing I've written in years, and your support and critiques and advice have been so helpful. Thank you all so much.

_I wanted to spend some time with Loghain in this section because I actually enjoyed playing with him in the game. He is such an interesting character in the game; I hope I haven't messed with his character too much here. Again, any reviews and suggestions are welcome. You can expect about two more chapters and an epilogue. Have a great weekend!_


	37. Final Goodbyes 37

_This one had several different points of view so I gave it a title instead of just identifying the point of view. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you all think of this one._

* * *

Zevran moved quickly though the flood of darkspawn pouring from the city gates, cutting down any darkspawn that crossed his path while keeping a close eye on Eriana. She and Leliana were perched on a rise beside the gates, thinning the herds of darkspawn with deadly accuracy. He grinned to himself as the hurlock that as charging at him dropped to the ground, a single arrow lodged in the back of its head. He gave his Warden a quick wave before beheading the genlock that was trying to move in behind him. They had rushed frantically to the gates of the city, only to arrive to find all of Denerim overrun with the horrendous creatures. With the King's armies and Eriana's allies, they worked most of the morning, cutting down the monsters that milled around the city gates. It was grueling work, but the worst was yet to come, Zevran feared.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of fighting, the tide of darkspawn died down, and they were able to take a brief rest. Zevran moved quickly to where Eriana and the other two Wardens were talking.

"I should go in alone," Riordan was saying, "I have been a Warden for much longer than you; the darkspawn will sense me easily, even more so if we are all together. You two should move into the city together, but I suggest you take no more than two other people with you. The rest of your companions need to stay and help guard the gate."

Eriana nodded and turned toward Zevran. "So, my Warden, who will we be taking with us?" Eriana was silent for a moment, but he could tell by her look what she was thinking. "Ana, don't even think about it."

"Zevran, I'm sorry, you're not coming with me this time." He moved toward her, about to protest, but she stopped him. "No, just listen for a moment. I have no idea what we will be facing in there, but I do know I don't want you anywhere near it, and not just because I want to keep you from it. I do, but I just…I can't be distracted while I'm in there; there's just too much riding on this, on me. And I know that if you are with me, I will be focused on you way too much; I'm just afraid I'll get distracted and miss something important like I did when we were fighting the werewolves." She sighed and took his hands. "This is so hard for me. There is no one I would rather have beside me than you, no one that I trust more by my side, but I can't bring myself to ask you to face this with me."

She was quiet again, her eyes filling with tears, "And if the worst should happen, should I have to… I don't think I could do what was necessary if you were there. I'm afraid seeing you would make me lose my nerve. I just don't think I could bear to make you…"

"I understand," Zevran said, taking her hand and pulling her close, not wanting her to finish that thought. If she finished saying what they were both thinking, he wouldn't be able to let her leave him behind, but he was too tired to argue with her about this anymore. When she set her mind to something, there was no changing it, and he didn't want to taint what may be their last moment with any more arguing. "So who will you take?"

"Ogren and Wynne. Zevran…I…"

"Shhh, let's not say our goodbyes just yet, amora. Come, let us go to the others first," he said, holding on to her hand as they went to seek out their companions. If he was being honest with himself, Zevran wasn't ready to say goodbye, not after their last conversation about the archdemon. Knowing that he was saying goodbye to her, perhaps for the last time was almost unbearable. He didn't want this moment to end, so he stood back and watched as the others spoke with her. One by one, each of their companions came up to her to say their goodbyes to his Warden. Many had kind, sentimental things to say, but it was Ogren's sentiment that had surprised him the most. The dwarf who was usually light-hearted was suddenly serious; he thanked Eriana for believing him and giving him a chance when everyone else in his life had written him off. "I owe you a lot, Eriana, and I would consider it an honor to die for you and your cause." Shale, as always, was the only one who managed to make her smile. Zevran thought for a moment that the golem was expressing genuine concern for Eriana until she said, "Do try not to get swallowed whole. If the beats were to fly about afterward and poop it out, irony would dictate it would land on me. I couldn't take it." Eriana laughed and patted the golem on the arm as Leliana stepped up and pulled the elf into a big hug. Zevran couldn't bear to watch the two women say their goodbyes; Leliana's fear and anxiety was too similar to his own to bear. Besides, he had some business he had to tend to before he said his goodbye.

"Wynne, may I have a word, please," Zevran asked, taking the mage by the arm and leading her away from the group. "Would you do something for me? Could you please make sure that Loghain survives?"

Wynne was confused, "Loghain?"

"Yes, Loghain. I know that you will do all you can to keep Eriana alive, but if you care for her at all, make sure he survives to face the dragon."

"Zevran, what is this about?"

Zevran looked back at Eriana who was kneeling down, wrapping her arms around her mabari. "Just keep him alive, Wynne, please," he said, giving her one last look before walking back to Eriana.

She stood up when she saw him walking toward her and stepped into the waiting circle of his arms. He simply held her for a moment savoring the feel of her head on his shoulder. "So this is where we part ways," he said, finally summoning the courage to speak, knowing full well their time was coming to a close. "I just wanted you to know, assassinating you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me." Eriana chuckled lightly, but kept her head nestled against his shoulder. He stroked her hair and tilted her head up to look at her. "Know this, my Ana, for a chance to be by your side, I would storm the gates of the Black City itself, never doubt it."

"I love you, Zevran Arainai, I hope you know that," Eriana said as she looked up at him.

"I know, mi amora, and I you," Zevran said as he ran his hand across her smooth cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment before reaching up and removing her Grey Warden amulet from her neck and placing it his hand. "Ah, cruel to the end," he said sadly as he looked down at her necklace briefly before taking her face in his hands and turning it up to his, drawing her into a passionate kiss. For a moment, the world faded around them, and nothing else existed except for the woman in his arms. But all too soon, she pulled away and the moment was over, and she had to leave him. Before releasing her, he whispered in her ear, "Come back to me, amora."

Eriana looked at him with sad eyes. "I will try, my love." She kissed him once again then was gone, walking toward the gates with Loghain, Ogren, and Wynne. Just before she disappeared into the city, she turned and looked back at him one last time. Then she was gone, and all Zevran could do was watch and wait.

* * *

The alienage was the one place that Eriana had hoped to avoid. Seeing the city that had been her home for so many years in ruin was difficult enough, but to see the alienage overrun with darkspawn was almost too much for her to bear. As she and her companions entered the burning neighborhood, Eriana offered a silent prayer of thanks that she had sent her family away, one less thing for her to worry about. Try as she might, she wasn't able to stop herself from looking down at the bodies of friends and neighbors that littered the streets. They were approaching the square where her ill-fated wedding had taken place when an all too familiar voice greeted her.

"Shianni!" Eriana shouted when her cousin came running up to her, "What in the sodding hell are you doing here? You are supposed to be up north with my father."

"I couldn't leave the alienage, not the way things are. Oh, Cousin, had I known…"

Eriana bit her lip; she desperately wanted to chide her, but now was not the time. "It's fine, Shianni, but you need to get out of here. Gather as many people as you can and escape through the market; it should still be clear."

"No, this is my home, too, and I'm not leaving it."

Eriana lost it; grabbing her cousin a bit roughly by the arm, Eriana drug her away from the group. "I need you to get your sodding ass out of here, now. You have no idea what waits behind those gates, and I can't have you here when those things break through, I can't." Eriana glanced over her shoulder where her companions waited. "It is bad enough that I have had to drag my friends into this hell, but I can't focus on what I have to do while I'm worried about the people I love. That's why I tried to send you away. If I'm worried about protecting you, I'll make a mistake, and if I make a mistake, people die."

Shianni glanced around for a moment, "So who is protecting you then? Where is Zevran?"

"Zevran is at the gate for the same reason I tried to send you away. I can take care of myself, Shianni. Besides, I'm a Grey Warden; it's my responsibility to protect you, to protect everyone. Now, go. Find Zevran at the gate, and wait for me there."

Shianni gave her a quick hug before she began rounding up the alienage survivors and leading them toward the market. Eriana watched sadly as her cousin disappeared from sight before turning back to her companions. "Alright guys, let's take care of this general then head for the archdemon."

* * *

Zevran just wasn't himself today, Leliana quickly realized as she watched the elven assassin move through the waves of darkspawn that poured through the gates. She had seen him worried or upset before, but there was more to it than simple concern. There was almost an air of foreboding and dread hanging around the usually cool and collected elf. There was definitely something going on that neither Zevran nor Eriana had told her, and she wasn't about to wait around to find out.

When they finally caught a break in the fighting, Leliana made her way over to where he was standing by the wall, watching the gate closely. "Okay, Zevran, what is going on, and don't bother trying to lie to me. I'm a better bard than you, and I can tell when you're lying."

Zevran looked up at her for a moment, clearly torn between the need to talk about what was bothering and a desire to stay quiet. As they were standing there, the shadow of the archdemon passed high over them, and something in Zevran seemed to break. In a flood of words and emotions, everything poured out. The need for a Warden's sacrifice, Eriana's need to prove herself honorable, Alistair's harsh critique of her character, everything. Leliana stood there, listening to him in a stunned silence.

"So, wait, are you saying Eriana intends to take the last hit should Riordan fall?" Zevran nodded, unable to meet her eye. Leliana was about to say something when a harsh roar shattered the sky above them. Turning and looking into the sky, they watched the archdemon struggling to dislodge a lone figure from its back. She didn't Zevran's superior eyesight to know it was Riordan. She watched in horror as the senior Warden and dragon both fell from the sky. Sighing, Zevran sank to the ground and held his head in his hands, and despite all her best efforts, Leliana could find nothing to say to soothe the distraught elf. So she said nothing; she simply sat down beside him, her arms wrapped around him, joining him on his vigil at the gate.

* * *

The great beast gave a ground-shaking roar before it collapsed to the roof of Fort Drakon; its defeat now imminent. Eriana and Loghain turned simultaneously toward the great beast and shouted to their allies to stand back as the duo raced toward the fallen dragon. Taking a deep breath, Eriana leaned forward on her sword for a moment, exhausted and nauseated all of a sudden. The reality of what she was about to do finally setting in. Taking a deep breath, she reached back and drew Fang off her back and handed her mother's blade to Ogren who had come up beside her.

"Could you do one last thing for me, Ogren? Would you make sure that he gets that?" The dwarf nodded and took the dagger from her. "Thank you, my friend," she in a whisper.

Eriana turned back toward the dragon, clutching Duncan's sword, trying hard to keep her last measure of courage from leaving her. She tried to picture those that she loved the most, Zevran, Shianni, Soris, her father, remembering that she was doing this for them, to preserve and protect them. It was her duty, a duty that cannot be forsworn. She hefted her sword and began to move toward the dragon when she felt a strong hand on her arm, holding her back. Eriana turned and found herself looking up into the clear blue eyes of Loghain.

"Eriana, there is no need for you to take the final blow. Allow me; isn't that why I'm here."

Eriana glanced up at him, "No Loghain, this isn't a punishment. I didn't make you a Grey Warden so you could do the difficult things that I don't want to. I can't ask you to do anything that I myself am not willing to do myself. If would be selfish of me to expect that of you."

"Perhaps, but why should you be the one to die? You are the reason that this creature lies defeated, not I. My joining the Grey Wardens was a death sentence. If I survived the joining it seems only fitting that it could be because I was destined to perish him here. Besides you are young. You have more to live for than I."

"Loghain, my joining was also a death sentence. It is my destiny to die here as much as it is yours, and as senior Grey Warden, this is my duty, not yours. If I don't do this, do what is right, what is my duty, then he'll be right about me. Besides, you are a national hero, and I…I'm just an elf that has gained some notoriety."

"Do you honestly believe that? Do you think I will be remembered as a hero? I'm not so certain. If I can die a hero in the service of Ferelden, I do so gladly."

"As would I."

"Yes, of that I have no doubt, but I have much to atone for. If my death would serve some purpose here, I would greet it gladly. I expected you to kill me for what I did to you, but you didn't. More than that, you have proven a friend. I thought all along that I would save Ferelden, but it was you." He paused and placed a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Please, I have done so much wrong; allow me to do one last thing right."

"But, Loghain…"

The two Wardens stood in silence for a moment, regarding their enemy, neither lowering their swords. Finally, one of the knights from Redcliff shouted, "What are you waiting for? Kill it!"

The Wardens looked at each other.

"Are you sure about this; you realize what will happen if you do this?"

"I know, but it my duty, as much as if not more than it is yours."

"Alright then, go with the Maker, my friend."

With that, the Wardens clasped forearms one final time. When they released each other, one stepped forward toward the injured dragon, the other stepped back to join their companions.

Taking a deep breath, the Warden charged toward the archdemon, crying "For Ferelden." As the Warden approached, the beast raised its snake-like head, baring its teeth and lunging toward its destroyer, but the Warden was faster, cutting the beast's neck from jaw to chest. The dragon crashed to the ground as the Warden leapt on to its head, driving the sword deep into the archdemon's skull. A bright light enveloped both Warden and dragon for a moment, shooting a bright beam of light high into the clouds. The soldiers, human, elf, and dwarf alike backed away from the demon as energy began to crackle around them. Suddenly there was a massive explosion, sending a shockwave across the roof.

Both archdemon and Grey Warden were dead. The Blight was over.

* * *

It had been a grueling couple of hours for Zevran as he helped to defend the gate. He had hoped that killing the steady stream of darkspawn pouring out of the city would have distracted him enough that he wouldn't be dwelling on the fact that he wasn't in there with his Warden, but he was wrong. All it did was serve as a constant reminder of the danger that she was in, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly, all eyes were drawn to Fort Drakon as a loud explosion echoed through the city. All around him, darkspawn began to drop their weapons and flee. Shouts of joy surrounded him as everyone began to realize what had happened. "Maker bless the Wardens," "They've done it," "It's over." But Zevran processed none of this. He knew too well the cost of this victory, and he knew that there was a very good chance that the woman he loved now laid dead beside the archdemon. A Grey Warden was dead; this much was certain; but which one?

Zevran felt a comforting hand resting on his arm and looked over to see Leliana standing beside him. "I'm sure she's okay, Zev." she whispered onto his ear. Zevran didn't say anything, he just covered the bard's hand with his own and together the two turned to wait for their return.

"She did it, right? This means she did it!" Shianni said as she ran up to the two rogues. Seeing the look on their faces, she stopped short. "What?"

Leliana drew the red-headed elf in beside her and quietly explained the situation. Zevran blocked it out; all his senses focused on the gate in front of him.

For nearly an hour, the two rogues stood with Sten, Shianni, and Ramoth and watched the flood of survivors and weary soldiers as they poured from the city, waiting anxiously for any news from Drakon. With every moment that passed, Zevran became more desperate, the nervous feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

Then, in the distance, a familiar silhouette appeared in the smoke and haze. The first to appear was the outline of a dwarf, assisting a weary mage who was using her staff as a walking stick. Beside them was the shadow of an armored man, carrying a small, limp body in his arms. Beside him, Leliana let out a weak cry that Zevran didn't hear. His stomach lurched as the bile in his stomach began to rise in his throat. All his senses were dull except for his sight, and all he saw was his Warden, his beloved, his Eriana cradled in a pair of armored arms as his world shattered around him.


	38. Zevran 38

There was finally a lull in the activity that had surrounded Zevran for the past few hours as healers and mages moved in and out of the tents that had been set up to house the injured after the battle. He found the sudden silence oddly soothing as he sat beside the bed that held his Grey Warden. At present, he was sitting quietly at Eriana's bedside, gently cradling one of her hands in his while the other gently stroked the soft skin of her wrist. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, simply holding her hand; time, it seemed, had lost all meaning for him. Time could be flying by, crawling by, or standing still; Zevran wasn't sure. His whole world was there, so close that he could touch it, yet, in a way, completely beyond his reach. Despite the feeling gnawing at his stomach, Zevran found an odd kind of serenity there, sitting beside his Grey Warden. He heard the rustle of the flap of the tent as someone entered, but he found it difficult to move his eyes from Eriana to see who had come in. Whoever it was would speak to him eventually, Zevran knew. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but Zevran wasn't quite ready to talk to anyone. Not just yet. So he just stayed there, holding her hand, gently stroking her arm.

"Zevran," Leliana said softly, gently laying a hand on his arm as she perched on the edge of bed where Eriana lay. "When was the last time you had something to eat?" Zevran shrugged, not quite able to bring himself to look at Leliana. She sighed and knelt down in the floor in front of him, her hands resting lightly on his arm. "Zevran, you've been sitting her for five hours; you must eat something. Sweetie, it's been a long day, and it does you no good to sit here and starve yourself." She brushed his hair back off his face, looking up at him, "You heard what Wynne said. She said it would probably be a day or so until she wakes, and you don't want her to wake to find you withered away from hunger and exhaustion, now do you?"

Zevran sighed and shook his head. He tried to bring himself to stand, but found it difficult to release her hand, even for a moment. Leliana smiled at him and patted his arm again. "If I bring you something here, would you eat it?" Zevran nodded. "Good, then I'll be right back."

Zevran listened to the fleet-footed bard leave, but didn't watch her go, his eyes still fixed on the unconscious elf beside him. "She's alive," he tried to remind herself. "You can see her chest rise and fall with each breath, each glorious breath she takes." But it was hard for him to look at her unresponsive face and not remember those long, torturous moments when he had first seen her laying in the arms of the Redcliffe knight. When the party first returned from Drakon, all Zevran had seem was her limp figure cradled in a human man's arms; nothing else in the world mattered to him. His whole world was thrown into a tumultuous sea of emotion, and he found himself unable to focus on anything else other than her. He was in a daze until Wynne's comforting hands reached out and drew him back from the precipice of despair.

"Zevran, Zevran, please look at me for a moment. Eriana is going to be fine."

Zevran blinked for a moment and looked up at the mage, trying to process her words. "Fine?"

"Fine," the elderly mage said, "When Loghain killed the archdemon, the shockwave from the explosion hit her pretty hard, but…"

"She's alive?" Zevran said; his senses slowly returning, he heard Leliana let out a relieved sob as she embraced Shianni who was also crying with relief. "Loghain killed the dragon?" Wynne nodded. Zevran didn't need to hear anything else. His Warden was alive; she had returned to him. He suddenly realized that it was not Loghain who was carrying her; it was a knight wearing the Redcliffe insignia. He had been so focused on seeing her seemingly lifeless form; he hadn't even noticed who was carrying her.

Before he realized it, he had crossed the space between him and the knight holding Eriana; taking her from the knight, he savored the feeling of having her in his arms again. Her head lulled against his shoulder, and he felt the soft tickle of her warm breath on his neck, the most precious and wonderful sensation he could imagine. Relief washed over him as he cradled her in his arms, the bitter taste of bile and the sting of grief and despair slowly fading away as he carried her back to the tent that had been set up for the Wardens and their companions. He had spent the next five hours just watching her sleep, trying desperately to forget the sick feelings that had greeted him on her return, waiting for her to open her eyes again. Try as he might to quell them, the feelings of panic and despair were still stirring in his stomach, almost as though he wasn't completely certain that she was still alive. That was why it was so hard for him to move away from her; on some level, he was afraid that if he left her, he would lose her again, and he was not going to lose her again, not ever.

Leliana came up beside him and perched on the edge of Eriana's bed, handing Zevran a bowl of stew and putting a wineskin on the ground beside him. "Here, Zev, eat. I'll hold on to Eriana while you eat something," she said with a grin. Zevran smiled up at her and thanked her for the food, reluctantly releasing Eriana's hand so he could eat. The stew felt a bit heavy on his stomach, but managed to choke down several bites while Leliana watched him with an amused look on her face.

As he was working through the bowl of soup, the flap of the tent opened as Sten and the knight from Redcliffe came in. "It's Ser Brendan, right?" Leliana asked. The knight nodded, looking slightly nervous. "Come, in, come in, please."

"I just came to see how the Warden was doing," Ser Brendan said as he moved into the tent. "She was amazing up there; I've never seen anything like it."

Zevran smiled down at the sleeping Warden, "You weren't with her when she defended Redcliffe, then?"

"No, Ser, I was searching for the Sacred Ashes at the time, but I heard stories. I always thought that they were exaggerations, you know? But after watching her with that dragon, Maker's Breath, I have no doubt that they were completely true."

Leliana leaned forward, "Do you think you could tell us what happened up there? Ogren and Wynne were so exhausted when they got back, we just let them rest."

"Well, we didn't join them until they were already fighting the archdemon. The Wardens were bombarding that thing from a distance with a ballista, so we focused on the smaller darkspawn, trying to keep them away from the Wardens. It took them a while, but the Wardens finally brought that thing down. Then the strangest thing happened. The two Wardens just started talking, arguing about who was going to kill it. I mean, I understand now, but it was really confusing at the time."

Zevran looked up at the knight, "So neither of them wanted to kill it?"

"No, that was the weird thing, they both wanted to kill it." Zevran gripped the wineskin tightly, but didn't say anything. Of course she would insist on killing that thing. "I thought for sure she was going to do it for a moment, but Loghain grabbed her just before she took off toward it and asked her to let him do it."

"Did you hear what she said, why she insisted on doing it?" Zevran asked.

"Yeah, she said it was her duty and that it would be selfish of her to expect him to do something that she wasn't willing to do."

Zevran looked up at the knight, "Selfish? She said selfish?"

The knight nodded, "Yeah, she said it several times. Said it was her duty as senior Grey Warden and that if she wasn't willing to do it, he'd be right about her."

Zevran closed his eyes and tried to calm the rage that was growing in him. "Damn it, Alistair," he thought to himself. He knew that Alistair's accusation had upset her, but the fact that she was willing to die to prove her honor…he could literally kill the king right now. So it was definitely a bad time for Alistair to choose to waltz into the tent. It took everything in him not to get up and break the newly appointed monarch's neck, and that must have been obvious because Leliana placed a firm but discrete hand on his arm and Sten moved around to stand behind him.

"But Loghain," Ser Brendan continued, unaware of the King's presence, "insisted that he be the one to take the last hit. He said that he had done so much wrong that he wanted to finally do something right for Ferelden. He seemed pretty sincere, too, like he wanted to right his wrongs. They argued a little longer, both claiming it was their duty, but in the end, Eriana agreed and let him go do it."

"So Loghain gets the glory and everyone will conveniently forget that this was all his fault," Alistair said, bitterness and anger seeping out of every word. Ser Brendan stumbled to his feet to give a hasty bow to the King as Alistair strolled forward. "I can't believe she would do this. The Warden who ends the Blight is remembered forever as a hero, and she let him kill it."

Zevran's eyes narrowed, "What would you prefer, Your Majesty?"

"She should have been the one to do it," Alistair bellowed, pointing at the unconscious elf. "Instead, she let him take the credit. Now the man who allowed the Wardens to be destroyed is the one who will be honored among their ranks forever because she allowed him to….Hey!" Alistair shouted as he found himself covered with the remains of Zevran's meal as the bowl that held it clamored to the floor. "What was that for?"

Zevran found himself being held back by Sten, Leliana, and Ogren, who had woken up amid all the shouting. Wynne was making her way over to Alistair, trying desperately to silence him, but the damage was done. Zevran was furious. "He doesn't know, Zev," Leliana was whispering in his ear, struggling to keep her hold on him. "He doesn't understand."

"Well, that's his own fault," Zevran shouted. "She tried to tell him, but he would listen."

"I don't know what?" Alistair barked, whipping bits of meat and vegetables off his face and out of his hair. "What in the Black City are you talking about?"

"Alistair," Wynne said gently, "The Grey Warden who kills the archdemon dies. The soul of the old god enters the Warden and destroys them both." The moment she said it, the blood seemed to drain from Alistair's face. For a moment he looked at Eriana, horrified; then he looked at Zevran.

"I swear, I didn't know. Zevran…"

"Don't you dare try to apologize to me," Zevran hissed. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to. The person you need to apologize to is lying right there, your best friend, your sister. Do you know she was going to die to prove to you that she was willing to do the honorable thing? Your temper and arrogance almost cost me everything that matters to me."

"How…I didn't…how long has she known this?"

Zevran was about to answer, but Leliana gently hushed him and guided him back to his chair. "Apparently, she suspected it for some time, since before the Landsmeet. Riordan confirmed it for her and Loghain just before we returned to Denerim."

"The Landsmeet? So she knew. That's why she spared Loghain, to save herself."

"No, you ignorant fool," Zevran snapped again. "This was never about her. This was about you, Your Highness, about you and your nation. She wanted to protect you by putting as many Wardens between you and the archdemon as possible. I heard her say it over and over; Alistair must survive this; he has to become the King; we have to shield him from this. And you repay her by calling her a selfish whore."

Alistair took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Zevran, I swear I had no idea. I promise, I will make it up to her. I swear it."

Zevran reached out and took Eriana's hand again, refusing to look at or talk to Alistair anymore. Alistair could have his forgiveness after she was awake, after she returned to him, but until then, the King was dead to him.

"Alistair, you better go," Wynne said, gently taking the young King by the arm and leading him toward the tent's entrance. "Just give them some time, okay."

"Wynne, I swear, I didn't…"

"I know, Dear, but that doesn't really matter now. Once she wakes up, he'll be okay."

Alistair spared one final look back at his former companions before quietly slipping out of the tent, leaving them to their vigil at Eriana's bedside.

* * *

Eriana slowly opened her eyes, careful not to move any part of her stiff, aching body. She felt like she had been trampled by the archdemon, a herd of brontos, and an army of golems, but she was alive. She glanced around the room, unsure of where exactly she was. The high ceilings and stone walls suggested the palace, but she couldn't be sure. Zevran was sitting at her bedside, his head resting on the mattress as he slept. Eriana reached down, and lightly brushed his hair, careful not to wake him.

"Good, you're awake," the gruff voice of Ogren whispered from the other side of the bed. "We were starting to get a bit worried there, Warden," he said as he walked over and handed her a wineskin.

"Thanks," she whispered as she took a drink. "How long have I been out?"

"Four days. We've all been taking turns sitting up with you. Alistair had us moved into the palace yesterday." He nodded toward Zevran, "He's not left your side for a moment."

"Is everyone okay?"

"We're all fine now, thanks to you and Loghain."

"Where is he?"

"His body is resting in the Chantry. The funeral is tomorrow, so it's a good thing that you woke up when you did. They really wanted you to be there, but were afraid to wait much longer."

"The archdemon?"

"Dead, we collected the blood and bones pre your instructions. They're stored in the Warden compound."

"The darkspawn?"

"They're gone too. Disappeared as soon as the archdemon died. It looks like you did it, kiddo; I can hardly believe it."

Eriana relaxed, "No, we did it. There is no way I could have done it without you, all of you. I can't believe it's over." She glanced down at Zevran. "What about my family?"

"Shianni is around here somewhere; she was waiting for you when we got back to the gates. We sent a messenger after your father and brother, so they should be here in a day or so."

"Good," she said, leaning back against her pillow. "Wait a second," she said, a realization dawning on her, "did you say Alistair had us moved to the palace?" Ogren nodded, a big grin crossing his face. "Andraste's knickers, how did that happen? Doesn't he hate me?"

"Not anymore," Zevran said as he sleepily raised his head. "We had a chat and he came to a bit of a sudden realization." He stood up and gave her a quick kiss and pulled her up to a sitting position before moving behind her on the bed. Eriana sighed and leaned back into his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

"By chat you mean…"

"He threw his stew at him and yelled at him until the King was on the verge of tears," Ogren said with a laugh. "I guess we were all lucky there was nothing pointy nearby or we'd be busting him out of Drakon for regicide."

Eriana glanced over her shoulder at Zevran, "My hero."

"Anything for you, mia cara. And now, our newly appointed monarch feels quite guilty as well as eternally indebted to you. I'd very well say you could get anything you want out of him."

"I have everything I want right here. The Blight is over, everyone I love is alive, and we don't have to fight a civil war. What else could I ever want?"

"How about a little of Ogren's special brew?" said Ogren, pulling a swelling wineskin out of his pack. "I've been savin this for just the right occasion. Why don't I round up the Blighters and we celebrate?"

Eriana smiled, "Blighters, huh? I kinda like the sound of that."

Eriana and her companions spent the rest of the day celebrating her recovery and the destruction of the archdemon. Wynne still insisted that she remain in bed, claiming she would need her strength for the funeral tomorrow and Alistair's coronation later in the week, but other than that, the mood was light and happy. About an hour into their impromptu party, Alistair himself arrived and promptly began blubbering apologetically, begging for Eriana's forgiveness.

"Alistair, there is nothing to forgive. I understand why you acted the way you did."

"But those things I called you, the way I acted, I was such an ass. How could you ever forgive me?"

"Alistair, you had every right to be angry with me. I took your worst enemy and made him your ally; I didn't expect you to accept it easily. And as for the things you said, I know you didn't mean them; you just let your emotions get the better of you. It all worked out in the end, though," she said as she gave him a big hug.

Alistair seemed relieved, "Good, if something had happened to you, I would have never been able to forgive myself for letting things end the way they did. I can't believe that I almost lost my best friend to my own stupidity."

"Well," said Zevran with a smile, "now that we have that worked out so nicely; there is one more matter that we need to discuss. About your hair…"

"Ugh, I like my hair the way it is, Zev."

"Hey, you called him Zev!" Leliana squealed with a giggle. "Does that mean you're friends now?"

Eriana glanced between the two men who both shrugged. "I guess so," the King begrudgingly answered with a smile, "but that doesn't mean I need any 'friendly' advice from you about…you know, certain topics."

Zevran shrugged, "Your loss, but I'm sure Anora would appreciate it."

The rest of the evening passed quickly for Eriana as she enjoyed her time with her friends. It was late in the evening before the last of them left, leaving Eriana and Zevran alone at last. The moment the door closed behind Leliana, Zevran was on her, his mouth and hands searching over every inch of her body.

"My beautiful Warden, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see your lovely eyes again," he whispered to her as he kissed along her ear. "I have missed you more than words can tell." He pulled back and stroked her face. "There was a moment there when I thought I had lost you. When I saw you cradled in the arms of that Redcliffe knight, I thought it was Loghain who was carrying you and that you were gone from me forever. It was nearly unbearable."

"Oh Zevran," she said, wrapping her arms around him, drawing him close. "I am so sorry to put you through that; if there was any other way…"

"Shh, my dear, it all worked out in the end yes? And now you are the hero, a dashingly beautiful hero, if I might add. The people of Ferelden will bow at your feet." He left a trail of kisses down her jaw line and settled at the bottom of her neck, kissing the tender skin along her collarbone. "I will be happy once all this pomp and circumstance is over, though, and we can begin to move on from this."

"Ready to settle down, my love?"

"Settle down! Do you honestly believe you will ever settle down? No, but I am ready to follow you where ever you go. It will be nice to travel without the constant threat of darkspawn attacks and Alistair's cooking, yes?"

Eriana laughed for a moment. "Are you sure this is what you want? You know life with the Wardens is not likely to be easy."

"Ah, but when the rewards are so great, who worries about such difficulties. I am afraid you are quite stuck with me, mi amora."

Eriana drew him down and kissed him, savoring the feeling of his body against hers. "I think I can live with that."

_

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_

Okay, so I'm sorry about doing that to you all in the last chapter, but come on, how could I kill her off just like that? I'll probably have an epilogue up in a few days, and then I'll be starting a new story following Eriana in Amaranthine and beyond. I just wanted to give everyone who has been reading and reviewing a heart-felt thank you. This is the first think I've written in years, and it has been so wonderful to know that you all have enjoyed my story. Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart.

_Let me know how you all liked this one._


	39. Epilogue

Eriana shifted uncomfortably in front of the dais at the front of the Landsmeet Chamber as she watched the Revered Mother crown Alistair King of Ferelden. She felt quiet uneasy standing there as the nobility of Ferelden gathered around her, waiting to celebrate Alistair's ascension to the throne and Eriana's efforts to stop the Blight. It had only been three days since she had woken up from her comatose state, but the attention that she had been receiving from everyone had been quite overwhelming for the young elven woman who preferred to remain in the background. In fact, she was more than a little envious of Zevran and Leliana who were no doubt lurking in the shadows at present, remaining blissfully out of sight. But this was a celebration for her too, and, try as she might, there was simply no way to slink off into the shadows, not today.

His Royal Highness, King Alistair Therin of Ferelden rose and turned to face the assembled nobility, and with a confident and relaxed smile on his face, he asked Eriana to join him on the dais. She felt her stomach flip-flop as every eye in the chamber turned and fell on her. Taking a deep breath and trying hard to keep a confident look on her face, she mounted the steps and took her place beside her friend, the King. She knew what to expect; Eamon had spent several hours walking them through the ceremony for honoring a hero. Alistair would laud her accomplishments then offer her a boon to show the nation's appreciation for her efforts. They had even worked out the details of her request. She would request freedom and equality for her people; he would declare Shianni the new Bann of the Elven Alienage, giving the elves a voice in the Landsmeet. Then she and Zevran would begin the process of rebuilding the Wardens while her family rebuilt the alienage.

It was all going according to plan until Alistair dropped a bomb on her. She was so nervous that she almost missed what he was saying. "Let it be known that the Arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens…"

"Wait, what?" Eriana thought as Alistair continued, "Did he just give me an arling, Howe's arling?" She tried her hardest to keep her jaw from hitting the ground. This definitely wasn't part of their plan, and judging by the look on Anora and Eamon's faces, she suspected that Alistair had come up with this on his own. Anora, for the most part, managed to maintain her emotionless mask, but the small crease between her eyebrows suggested that she was unhappy about this. Eamon, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his anger. He looked absolutely furious by Alistair's revelation and was glaring at Eriana with a look that screamed of disgust. Eriana fought off a grin when she realized that Alistair's decree just put her on the same social tier as Eamon. Taking a deep breath, Eriana turned to face Ferelden's nobility, wondering who among them would now be considered her vassals. "This may be bad," Eriana thought, "very bad."

The moment she stepped of the dais, Eriana cut through the crowd, making her way to her father and cousins. "Congratulations, da'len," her father said as he kissed her forehead then cheek. "Did I understand the King just now; are you an arlessa?"

"Well, he gave the arling to the Wardens, and I'm the only Warden in the nation, so, yeah, I guess so."

"This will be really hard for Eamon to swallow," Zevran whispered in her ear as he appeared behind her. "If his looks could kill…"

"I know, Zev, but there's nothing he can do about it now, so he'll just have to accept it." She groaned," but now's not the time to worry about him. I have to go be paraded in front of all of Ferelden."

Cyrion laughed and patted her on the head like she was a child. "I am so proud of you, my child. Your mother would be proud too if she were here. I know you don't like to be the center of attention, but you serve as an example for all of Ferelden, human, dwarf, and elf alike." He brushed a wayward hair off her forehead. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you will be back on a dais in front of people again soon, right?" Eriana looked confused for a moment. "Unless, of course you two plan to sneak off and get married in some small chantry by yourselves."

"Hum," Zevran said, wrapping his arms around Eriana, "that does sound attractive. It lessens the chance of an assassination attempt during the ceremony, yes?"

Eriana turned and looked at him, a big smile on her face. "Once we're settled in Amaranthine?"

Zevran nodded. "Sounds perfect to me, amora," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Do you remember what I said to you when you first spared me?" Eriana shook her head. "I swore to you that I was your man without reservation. I'm afraid, my dear, that you are quite stuck with me. I am yours."

"Forever?"

"Forever. Now let's get this celebration over with so we can move on to the after party, yes?"

Eriana smiled as she made her way to the doors to greet those waiting for her. No matter what uncertainties her future held, there was one thing that was certain; she wouldn't be facing it alone. No matter what, she was certain that she and Zevran would be together, and that was all she could ever ask for. She had begun this journey amid so much pain and heartbreak, but she had found peace and security in the arms of her Antivan Crow.

* * *

Highever: Six months after the fall of the archdemon

Eriana listened as the morning glories sang outside her window in the early light of morning. In a few days, she and Zevran would be in Amaranthine, and it would be back to work for her. Her seneschal was sending a new Warden recruit to meet them in Highever and escort them back Amaranthine later that day. But for now, she was enjoying her short respite in Highever as she visited Cousland brothers. Unfortunately, it hadn't been all peace and relaxation, she remembered as she absentmindedly felt the slowly-healing wound in her side. "I hope that there's a healing mage among the Orlesian Wardens; I never realized how much I'd come to rely on Wynne," Eriana said, rolling over and reaching for Zevran only to discover that she was alone in the bed.

Sitting up quickly, Eriana looked around the room, expecting to see him by the fire, but he wasn't there. In fact, the door leading from their room was still bolted shut. A growing feeling of unease and confusion began to well up in her stomach as she glanced toward the corner where her pack was resting by its self. Then something on the pillow beside her caught her eye. It was a folded piece of parchment with her name on it; her hands shaking as she opened it and began reading. Her eyes passed over the words without comprehending what was being said. Only a few choice phrases caught her eye. "I'm sorry, amora." "I hate to leave like this." "It is for the best." "Don't try to follow; I'll be gone before you wake."

Without thinking, Eriana threw on some clothes, grabbed a pair of daggers and took off into the city, running as fast as she could toward the docks, praying she was fast enough. She ignored the strange looks she was receiving from strangers as she barreled through the market place. It seemed like it took an eternity, but she finally made it to the port. "Please," she breathlessly asked the dock supervisor, "Do you have a ship leaving for Antiva?"

"Not for at least a week; you just missed the last one. It left just before sunrise," he said, nodding toward the open sea before moving past her to tend to his duties.

Eriana rushed to the end of the dock just in time to see a ship disappear over the horizon. "Zevran," she whispered to herself as her strength finally gave out and she collapsed to the deck, dissolving into a mess of tears.

Zevran was gone, and she was now alone.

To be continued…

_

* * *

_

Well folks, that's all for this one and a little taste of my Amaranthine story "Picking Up the Pieces." Thanks for the support and for reading, and I hope you decide to follow the sequel.

_I wanted to say a special thanks to everyone who added alerts and reviewed from the beginning. I don't know if I would have ever finished if it hadn't been for the regular reviewers. Thanks again and hope to see you in the next one._


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